


if i survive, i'll dive back in

by dameofpowellestate



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Olympics, David aggressively thinks about Patrick's thighs, Diving, M/M, Partners to Lovers, These boys in speedos tho, Tokyo 2020 Summer Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dameofpowellestate/pseuds/dameofpowellestate
Summary: David bites his lip and pulls his eyes from Patrick’s strong thighs to his face, finding Patrick’s own eyes on him, that warm smile still gleaming.He looks away, down to his sneakers and clean, damp concrete.He can see Jocelyn bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly, her hands clasped together. "Well you know who Patrick is, this is his wonderful coach Ronnie! I think we'll all work very well together."Or, the diving AU no one asked for.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Comments: 322
Kudos: 369





	1. headfirst into shallow pools

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, to my lovely friend samwhambam, who's listened to me groan and complain and fall in and out of love with this story for weeks. She's fixed my errors and has offered suggestions that have helped make this fic what it is. And to returntosaturn, without whom this fic would not exist. She took my idea, made it bigger and handed it back. She's read it more times than I have probably. She's a genius and my platonic other half and this fic is for her.

Pulling up to the natatorium at this time of day is already an out-of-body experience. He hasn’t come by here in months, let alone as early as eight in the morning. One of the perks of living near home again was being back in _his_ pool. And not the one in the backyard they stood around at parties and used for that one _Sports Illustrated_ shoot Alexis did a few years back. The other one. The indoor, heated pool his parents had built for his Bar Mitzvah. The one that was kept meticulously cleaned and balanced, even when he’d dipped off to New York for those few months when things got admittedly dark.

Being here, at a public natatorium, made his anxiety flare in exactly two ways. People and germs. And also Jocelyn.

She’s already beaming and bouncing by the front door as soon as he breezes in wearing lululemon, with purposefully tousled hair he has no intentions of getting wet today.

The natatorium has a long hallway that splits the two pools, lined with bleachers where there isn’t plate glass, and decently cleaned concrete floors. Plenty of sunlight spills in, setting Jocelyn’s hair to a bright, teased halo as she waves him over enthusiastically.

He glances briefly to the towering structure of concrete just over Jocelyn's shoulder. The platforms have always felt like home, now they feel a bit daunting.

He pulls in a steadying breath through his nose, already smelling the sharp cut of chlorine. It helps to center him.

“I’m here,” he mumbles disinterestedly, gym bag dangling at the crook of his elbow, not bothering to remove his white-framed sunglasses. 

Jocelyn, unphased by this typical aloof display, clasps her hands together at her chin, and David braces himself for the oncoming gale of optimism and her seemingly endless catalog of cliches he’s pretty sure she read from cat posters and email forwards.

“David, this is going to be so great! I can’t wait for you to meet him! I just know you two are going to be perfect together! We’re really confident in these odds!”

“K, who’s we in this situation?” He waves a hand. Over Jocelyn’s shoulder, through the tall windows, he can make out someone in the pool, swimming a textbook butterfly stroke, and someone—the coach, he assumes—on the bench that lines the windows, arms crossed.

“Because I would like to be excluded from that grouping.”

“David, I know it's been a long few years.”

“Mmm. Many,” he chirps.

“But you said so yourself. You’re ready to come back. You still want that, right?”

He takes another grounding breath. “Yes.”

He does. He really really does.

"And it might just be a little difficult to get back into the swing of things without a partner, don’t ya think?” 

Jocelyn winks. David grimaces behind his sunglasses.

"Who's to say I can't just have a solo career? I've placed for the 10 meter before," he huffs.

“David.” She reaches to grasp his hands and he doesn’t protest. “Sometimes, it might feel like we’re buried, but we’ve really been planted in just the right place that helps us grow.”

“You’ve been reading _Chicken Soup_ again, haven’t you?”

"I'm also not letting you be talked out of a solo career again anyway. How your last coach let that man…"

"Let's not bring him up right now?" David interjects. 

Jocelyn smiles and tugs him forward, in past the heavy double doors that lead to the pool. The guy in the pool is out now, a blue towel around his shoulders and his hands on his hips as he sets them with a smile that reads both proud dad and friendly neighborhood tax preparer. 

His coach, a severe looking woman with close cropped hair, stands from the bench.

David reluctantly pulls off his sunglasses and hooks them over the collar of his sweatshirt.

There’s no introductions, which means they’ve already discussed and they’ve been talking about him in the thirty minutes that have passed since he was meant to arrive.

Patrick is first to break the awkward silence. He extends a hand to David.

“Hi. Patrick Brewer.”

“David.”

There’s a platonic handshake that’s really one sided; Patrick is eager and full of sportsmanship. David wants to be anywhere but here, and if he hadn’t known Patrick Brewer from the 2015 Nationals where he'd taken the bronze in the men's three meter, he would’ve accused him of being totally green.

David had seen the round himself from the stands. Sebastian had also been competing for the gold and the chance to qualify for World's. Poor Sebastian didn't qualify in any event that year other than synchro with David. Sebastian was always put off his game when he’d have to go up against David in singles events. He said it was because he didn’t want them to have to compete against each other, but the truth was that Sebastian just wasn’t that great of a platform diver. David has been sick of sitting out on events he knew he could pick up with ease, and he had been ready to say so that year. Unfortunately, by Trials, he didn’t even get the chance.

David’s eyes wander surreptitiously to Patrick. He was significantly shorter than Sebastian. Significantly shorter than _David,_ and that just wasn’t going to work. His build was perfect, though. A trim little waist, lean shoulders. All smooth, pale skin just _out here_ like it’s entirely professional, entirely normal. He’s neat and compact, like David could just pack him away in his gym back and run off with him. Perfect for diving, perfect for…

David bites his lip and pulls his eyes from Patrick’s strong thighs to his face, finding Patrick’s own eyes on him, that warm smile still gleaming.

He looks away, down to his sneakers and clean, damp concrete.

He can see Jocelyn bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly, her hands clasped together. "Well you know who Patrick is, this is his wonderful coach Ronnie! I think we'll all work very well together." 

Ronnie clears her throat, clearly already over this exchange and David hears her slap a hand against, what he assumes is Patrick's shoulder.

“We’ll let you boys get to know each other,” Jocelyn says, bobbing past. Ronnie follows stiffly, towards the double doors.

David turns on Patrick, appraising. He just gazes—fucking _gazes—_ up at him with that soft smile and big, round puppy dog eyes. 

It’s David’s turn to break the silence. 

"Um why… Why were you _swimming?"_ he asks abruptly, pulling a face.

Patrick shrugs his lean little shoulders. "I like to swim?"

"Are you even a diver? That was an impressive butterfly for someone that _shouldn't_ have time to swim for fun."

“I’m not fast enough to compete, but I am very, very precise,” Patrick says, and that dad smile goes all smoky and smooth for just a moment. Or maybe David just imagines it does. 

"So tell me, David. What are you looking for? In a partner?" Patrick doesn’t skip a beat, the smug look on his face that he’s definitely in on the double meaning to his words.

This guy.

"Um, are you… good?" The standards weren’t high at this point.

"Yeah. I'm really good David." Patrick’s tone is certain, his expression steady. 

David knows he’s good. He’ll deny it if Jocelyn ever asked, but he did pull up the clip from the 2015 Nationals on YouTube last night, and maybe he also found a few others that were shaky iPhone footage under an account named brewer-mom1988, along with some alarmingly charming videos of him on a small stage with an acoustic guitar, and one with a godforsaken accordion.

"Mmm. Okay. Well… I guess there's only one way to find out."

David turns, heading for the locker rooms, gym bag swinging.

“Where are you going?”

“To change. I want to see you perform," David says. Off Patrick’s second-hand shy smile, he winces.

“I want to see how you...how you dive. Perform in...in the diving.”

David feels heat crawl up the back of his neck.

Patrick gives a knowing nod.

In the sanctum of the locker room, David stumbles and snags his toe in one leg of his Speedo in his flustered state. He returns with his usual stride, thankful there’d been no one to witness that. 

He tosses his black shammy down at the edge of the pool and plants his hands on his hips. Being this bare is all business, but either way, David wouldn’t be bothered by it. 

Jocelyn and Ronnie have returned, standing on the fringes near the plate glass windows. 

He saunters to the springboards, and waves Patrick over.

“Just a regular front dive,” he says.

Patrick smirks. “Not feeling adventurous today?”

David counts them down softly and they complete, according to Jocelyn's erratic clapping, a nearly perfect front dive in the pike position, both men seeming to automatically know how to adjust for the significant height difference.

“What are you doing?” David says, treading water in the middle of the pool.

Patrick stays afloat with ease, water barely disturbed, as if he were weightless.

“What?”

“How did you… We were really in sync.”

Patrick smirks. “Right. That’s kind of the point.”

“No but you’re shorter,” David huffs.

“I used a little more force to push off to make up for it.”

David blinks. “Ok. Um. Let’s try a back two and a half tuck.”

“Is that supposed to be a challenge?” Patrick ribs.

“No,” he answers deadpan and swims for the edge of the pool.

This too goes off perfectly. 

“You wanna keep going?” Patrick asks, bold and brash, once they’re out of the water.

David feels exhilarated in a way he hasn't in years, maybe even before the incident. Patrick seems to just understand the way his body moves and he finds he feels the same. 

So he nods.

He wants to see if they can do it again, if he can do _this_ again _._

They do a reverse one and a half in the pike position.

Then an inward one and a half in the tuck position.

They move together like they've been partners for much longer than 30 minutes. 

David is fucked.

"So, are we doing this?" Patrick asks, pulling his speedo back into place and tossing David his shammy.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

David stares for a moment. "Why do you want to do this? I’m…” He sighs and shrugs. “I’m damaged goods.”

Patrick remains quiet for a few moments, his expression sturdy but his loud as hell eyes seeming to search David's face.

"Because I need you and I think you need me too," he says with a shrug.

\---------

That night David goes to his parent's house for dinner to break the news. 

They know he's been diving, Jocelyn coaching and the both of them coming and going every day from the pool on their property, but he hasn't told them he's been thinking about giving it another go.

After Sebastian had left him stranded on the deck of the pool at trials he'd spent most of his recovery in his old childhood bedroom, his parents even brought back Adelina to help care for him.

Everyone had moved back home after the incident. Alexis leaving Stavros on a yacht somewhere in the middle of the ocean.

Now that he is back out on his own he finds he misses them more than he did the last time he left the nest so he's started having weekly dinners, sometimes even Alexis will join them, though that has become less and less frequent.

Telling his parents he is going back is easy, listening to their reactions, not so much.

Moira and Johnny both sit quietly at the heads of the table, the table so long it's a miracle they can see each other, let alone hear each other.

David sits in his spot in the middle of the table and watches the whole scene unfold in front of him. God he wishes Alexis was here.

He's gotten so used to having her home and once again under his watchful eye, that now dinners at home without her felt empty.

She wasn't exactly helpful when he was laid up here after his surgeries but she was a great source of comfort and entertainment, even if he'd never admit it. 

Plus, she's always had such an easy time deflecting and pulling attention. Now, all of his parent's focus is on him.

Last he'd heard from her she was off with some playboy she'd met through some mutual friends.

His father's eyebrows rise nearly to his hairline when he makes the announcement, and his lips draw into a straight and severe line, this David could handle. It's when he calmly takes his napkin from his lap and folds it neatly before placing it beside his plate that makes him nervous.

If Johnny is done eating, he’s ready to start talking.

Thankfully, or _not,_ his mother beats him to the punch. She lets out a gasp rivaling any ever showcased on Sunrise Bay. 

Vivien Blake, eat your heart out. 

“This sounds simply cataclysmic, Dear. Are you sure Jocelyn has your best interests in mind?”

“Mkay, let me remind you for the one hundredth and seventy third time, she’s _your_ friend. And _you_ hired her.”

"Mmm, I don't seem to recall that bit of information, but nevertheless. David, if you think you're ready to jump back in so soon after your disquieting injury well, who am I to stop you?"

" _Disquieting_ ?! Oh my God, it was nearly three years ago. Thanks _so_ much for your concern, I feel so much better," he says before forking another chunk of cheese enchiladas onto his plate from the dish in the middle of the large mahogany table.

"Son, I think what your mother means is, we're concerned about you. We don't want to have to go through all those medical procedures again, let alone pay for them."

"Mmm, except I remember being the one that had to _go through_ those procedures, endure the recovery physical therapy. I'm sorry it was so taxing for you guys. _Please_ let me know if there's anythin–"

"David, you know that's not what I meant son. We just want you to be happy."

" _This_ is what makes me happy."

"But will you still be happy you made this decision if things don't go to plan?" 

"Yeah, I–I think so. Patrick's good, Dad. Like really good, and I think we're going to be good together," David says and then immediately regrets his decision to bring up his new partner. He hears his mother's fork drop against her plate.

"Oh, that's just what we need! Another media circus surrounding your exploits. Wasn't being left poolside by that pulchritudinous young man enough embarrassment to last a lifetime David?"

"I'd say it was more embarrassing for him," he mumbles, his own fork now left abandoned on his plate, arms crossing over his chest. "He's the one that left me high and dry."

"An argument could be made that you left him high and dry when you threw that dive!"

"Oh my fucking– who's side are you even on?"

"Well David, there are two sides to every story."

"But as my mother you're only supposed to care about mine!" 

"I'm sorry dear but surely you know that's not how the world works by now," she says standing from her chair, taking her wine goblet with her.

"While I understand where your mother is coming from, you know you have our support."

"Okay well, that's not what this sounds like," he says, moving his hands over the table as if to indicate all the negative remarks that just got thrown out. 

"Just so you know, I'll also be taking my spot back on the 10 meter," David adds quickly.

The sounds of his mother's weeping follows him as he leaves the dinning room to grab his things. 

By the time David leaves his parents place, he doesn't feel much better about his parents support, but he’s more confident to move ahead without it. 

They'll see he's right. He knows, however ridiculous their comments have been, their hearts are in the right place. That isn't something he'd have been sure about before his injury.


	2. i'm under water, no air in my lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begins and tensions rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as before! It took a village. There are details, though not graphic, of the incident.

"Um, that's my shammy," David says as he climbs out of the pool, apparently so much slower that Patrick has time to pick up his shammy instead of his own. Though, with thighs like those David is surprised he isn't fast enough to be a swimmer.

"Oh, is it?" he asks, an aloof expression etched on his face, his eyes dancing with mirth as he dries his arms. 

" _Y_ _es_ ," David says, exasperated, his hands flailing dramatically as he gestures from his shammy to Patrick's _very_ blue one, still lying on the deck where he'd tossed it down. 

They've been officially training for over a month now which means Patrick knows every single button to push to make David slowly lose his mind. 

Not only is Patrick infuriatingly quick witted, looks delicious in a speedo, but he’s also picked up on a few of David's quirkier pet peeves. Just last week, Patrick downed half of David's water bottle and then politely—not politely—refused to fill it back up. 

He even told David he had a sloppy mouth. David flossed twice daily; he did not have a sloppy mouth. He quickly informed Patrick of this information and had gotten an "of course you do David" back as a response. 

As much as Patrick teases David, he has to admit he is just as nice. He keeps good snacks in his locker in case their practice runs a bit longer than expected. He plays music David likes during their warm ups after David spent thirty minutes explaining why The Avett Brothers are _not_ an acceptable warm-up music choice. 

_But right now_ David is having to watch as his own shammy runs along Patrick's very slick, very nice skin. Patrick finishes drying off and slings the shammy over his shoulder, apparently not planning to give it back.

And David is now slightly horrified by the fact he stood here and watched the entire time Patrick dried off.

"Maybe I'm color blind," Patrick shrugs, his hands moving to adjust his tiny speedo. God, David is going to _die_. 

If David were a poet or a songwriter, he'd have written a dozen songs about the shape of Patrick's thighs by this point. He’s a diver. He's seen thighs his whole life, but never has he seen any he so badly wants to–

David shakes his head and blinks up at Patrick, "Mmm, are you?" 

"Not even a little bit," Patrick grins before leaving David standing dumbly by the pool's edge, left with nothing but Patrick's shammy and _very_ jumbled thoughts. 

Patrick refuses to give David his shammy back until they’re in the locker room after practice. 

"Mmm, thanks so much. I'll just make sure to give this a nice washing," he says, the shammy pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

"Are you saying I have a sloppy body?" Patrick asks, throwing it back to the water bottle debate.

"Your body is decidedly _not_ sloppy, but um, it's still a little _gross?_ I don't even share towels with people I'm dating so…" David says, tossing his shammy into an outer pocket of his bag and pulling on a pair of joggers. 

"Do you, I mean are you? Dating anyone?" Patrick asks, now hidden behind the door of his locker as he digs around through the contents inside.

"Why?" 

Patrick leans back, his face appearing around the locker door, his hand moving to pass David a pack of cheese crackers.

"Just wanted to make sure, if I _happen_ to borrow your shammy again, that it doesn't make anyone upset," Patrick grins as he pulls his own clothes out of his locker, the sound of the door shutting echoing through the mostly empty room.

If David didn't know any better he'd assume Patrick was attempting to make a move, but this jerk was just teasing him again. 

There’s no way a guy this cute and basic would ever be into him. Traditionally, nice people were never interested in David. 

David rolls his eyes and pulls on his second favorite Neil Barret sweater, the one with several white lightening bolts running across his chest, "No, I'm not. Are you? Seeing anyone?"

Patrick turns to look at David after haphazardly throwing on his t-shirt, the collar showing signs of constant misuse, offering him a smug grin and a small shrug. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He would like to know.

Patrick shoulders his blue speedo backpack and leaves, throwing one more smile at David over his shoulder.

And then, once again, David is left alone with very inappropriate thoughts about his new partner.

\----------

David and Patrick continue on with their very regimented training schedule. They start promptly at 7 every morning. At least, Patrick does. David normally rolls in just past 8, missing most of the pilates warm-up. 

They practice their individual events in the mornings, break for lunch and spend the afternoon together working on their synchro. A few days a week they work in the gym and on the trampoline trying to iron out their form and build their strength.

David's thrilled to be back atop the 10 meter. It's his favorite place. It's quiet up there, the pool spread out before him like he's surveying his kingdom. He finds he breathes easier up there, as soon as his feet hit the cool concrete his worries fade away, leaving him with only the moments of his impending dive running through his brain.

Most of the time, thoughts of Patrick don't even follow him up here. 

They share the pool with only a handful of other divers, thankfully, two of which are Twyla and Stevie, but he still feels untouchable up there.

David sits perched on the edge of the 10 meter and watches Patrick on the three meter below. Patrick adjusts the fulcrum after the diver that has just gone before him.

"Hey, maybe um, enter straight this time?" He calls, leaning closer to the edge of the platform just enough for his eyes to be seen.

Patrick tilts his head up and grins. "Are you gonna do anything today or just watch?"

"But you're just so fun to watch though. I'm just taking it a little easy at the moment and honestly someone needs to tell you your last entry was sloppy if Ronnie's not,” he says, his fingers combing the wet hair off his forehead.

"Ah, so I'm sloppy again?" Patrick says, his hands moving to rest on his trim waist, drawing David's eyes away from his face for a split second.

"I told you that you had a clean mouth. You told _me_ that _I_ had a sloppy mouth." David says throwing his shammy down at him.

Patrick ducks just in time, David's shammy landing with a loud splat on the deck of the pool below. 

"Stop bickering like an old married couple and dive," Ronnie shouts from her chair off to the side, her legs crossed and a book balanced on her knee.

"I'm only going if David goes first." Patrick yells at Ronnie, not taking his eyes off David. He does however quirk one of his nearly non-existent eyebrows at David, which he's surprised he can see from this height.

"You're like a petulant toddler,” he calls down, though he moves to stand anyway, knowing with Patrick's stubbornness, and his own for that matter, there is only one way out of this.

"If anyone's petulant it's you!" 

David just offers him a small shrug and a knowing smirk. Patrick's right, out of the two of them David was far more petulant. 

"David, I'd love to see that armstand one more time," Jocelyn says from her chair next to Ronnie's, looking up expectantly.

David lets out a heavy sigh. "This is all your fault Brewer."

"God forbid I push you to place at Nationals," he quips.

"It feels more like you're pushing me off–"

"Shut up and dive," Ronnie says, effectively cutting him off.

He easily pushes himself up into a handstand, taking his time to make sure his form is perfect before pushing off. 

The water crashing around his ears is a welcome sound. He lingers below the surface for a moment, only swimming up when he sees the shape of Patrick's body move down the board.

When he surfaces he catches Patrick's clean entry, the sound of his hands hitting the water crisp and clean.

David waits for Patrick on the edge, sitting in the shallow water, his hands clapping together slowly, a smirk pulled off to the side of his face.

"I should be applauding you, that handstand was magnificent," Patrick says, swimming towards him, his strong arms glistening. 

"I know, it's a gift. You had a nice clean entry, very straight," he says standing and moving to find his shammy.

"Not so straight," Patrick says and walks past him briskly, throwing David a grin over his shoulder on his way back to the boards.

\----------

After a very long week, David requests a wine and whine night with Stevie, who thankfully seems to need one just as badly.

Once David and Stevie ended their extremely short-lived relationship they started a standing monthly drunken night, but on occasion one of them would call for an emergency session in between.

Which found them curled up on opposite ends of his couch, a bottle of red wine each and a pizza box resting between them on the couch. It was never great to eat like this so close to the beginning of competition season but, they always did anyway. 

"And he prances around in that tiny little speedo!" David exclaims, his limp piece of pepperoni waving wildly through the air.

"I don't know how to tell you this but... your speedo is just as tiny," Stevie counters before tipping her bottle back and taking another swig.

"That's beside the point. He's trying to _kill_ me." His piece of pizza jabs sharply towards Stevie to accentuate his point.

"You can't see it because your eyes are on his _body_ but the guy stares at you literally all day. Did you ever think that maybe you're killing him a little too?" 

"Ew, no… why would he care what I look like? Did you know," he says around a mouth full of pizza, having finally taken a bite, "that the other day he asked me if I was a _never nude_?"

Stevie cackles harshly, her head hitting the back of his plush couch, "What the fuck is a never nude?"

"Someone that's never naked. I'd just finished putting on my jeans, you know the ones… the bleached ones that do wonders for my–"

"Oh my God, David," Stevie says, making a face like she wanted to throw up, and successfully covering up the end of that sentence.

"...and my Zara sweater after practice and he asked! He honest to God mentioned the fact I never shower fully nude in the locker room and the fact that I wear sweaters all the time."

"How does he know you don't shower naked? Do you leave the curtain open?"

"What?! No I'm not some pervert! It's probably because I may have mentioned it, the germs Stevie! Can you imagine!?"

"Sounds like he just wants to see you naked David," she settles her gaze on him and smirks behind the piece of pizza dangling from her fingertips.

"I know! But I don't think that's it Stevie! I think he's getting off on teasing me."

"Did you ever think… hear me out, that he might be flirting with you? That he _likes_ you?"

"And you've finally _lost_ your mind. He wears straight leg–"

"Mid-range denim… so you've said," she says, moving the pizza box to the coffee table so she can stretch her legs and tuck her toes under David's thigh.

"Well why isn't that enough to convince you?"

"Look, I bet you a large pepperoni pizza from Alfredo's that before qualifiers are over he's made a move."

"Only if I get to make the same bet for you and Twyla."

Stevie's eyes cut to him quick, and he can see the argument cross her mind before finally resigning herself to the truth. "Okay, you're on."

"How's that… um… going?" he says, with his best attempt at a supportive smile that he's sure comes off as more of a grimace.

"Not? Not. It's not going," she says wiggling her toes underneath his thigh, making him tut unhappily.

"But you know she's interested right?"

"David, I think it's safe to say I'm as blind as you are."

"Ah, well… cheers then," he says, tipping his bottle towards hers and she meets him with a soft _clink._

\----------

"Come on David, you can do this," Patrick says from his spot on the end of one of the dry springboards. They've been working on hurdles for most of the morning on the deck. 

This may not be his private pool back home but the training set up is better. They've got stations set up all over the facility. David's favorite station is this one, the springboards lead off into big pillowy mats, allowing them to safely train. 

"Look, this dive almost cost me my career!" David says, having just landed comfortably on his ass. 

"Not because of the dive. You were still on the board when it happened," Patrick offers, in what David is sure is supposed to be an encouragement. 

He looks up from his spot on the mat to where Patrick is perched on the end of the springboard, his tiny shorts so tight across his thick thighs it would be distracting if Patrick wasn't well on his way to pissing David off. 

Maybe they're still a bit distracting, maybe that's making him even more ticked. 

"Why are you bringing this up now? Aren't we a little too close to Nationals to add a new dive into the rotation?"

"David, we still have a little over two months."

"No."

"David! You can't just say no! We need this level of difficulty to even stand a chance."

"I don't care. I'm not fucking doing it Patrick."

"Why can't you trust me? Yourself? Jocelyn?"

"So you've been talking to Jocelyn about this? Do you, Ronnie, and Jocelyn meet for breakfast to talk about me behind my back?" he shrieks, resisting the urge to wince at the decibel his voice reaches.

"Well maybe if you showed up for practice on time you could join us in talking about you, then it would be in front of your face!"

"Oh, well then. I see how it is." He says, rolling off the mat and slipping his pool shoes on. 

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you!"

"David, come on… I didn’t–I just need you to _trust_ me!"

"Yeah? Last time I trusted a partner I got royally fucked and not even in the fun way. Well, not in the end anyway. And have you ever thought that maybe I need you to trust me? No, I'm sure you didn't."

"Don't put words in my mouth!"

"I don't fucking have to! I know what people think, what they say. I'm the flighty one, the one with mountains of insecurities that keep me from _connecting_ and _trusting_ and operating like a _normal_ _human_ being," he spits bitterly. "Trust me, I've been in therapy since I could talk, I'm very self aware of my shortcomings. I don't need you, or Sebastian, or Jocelyn or God forbid Ronnie shoving them down my throat!" 

He's flying off he handle now, his body is vibrating with anger but he's so fucking tired of people asking him to trust them when they've done nothing to earn it. 

His parents had done it for most of his childhood. They always said they'd never miss another birthday or school play. Alexis always said she'd only be gone a week but she'd be gone for months, and that started as soon as she turned twelve. David's always been alone and every time he'd thought he'd found someone that was willing stick around, they'd fuck him over too. 

He wants to believe Patrick is different, but he's mad right now. He's so mad at Patrick for pushing him but somewhere deep down, he knows Patrick probably doesn't mean it the way that he's insinuating he does. 

But he's done. He's done for the day. Maybe even tomorrow. Patrick's intentions might not be sinister but he's still pushing, he's still refusing to trust David's instincts too.

"This partnership goes both ways Patrick. When you figure that out, give me a call. I'm going home," he says over his shoulder. 

"And for God's sake, don't follow me into the locker room."

He descends the stairs that separate the training station from the deck of the pool, breezing past Jocelyn, who based on the fact she's not meeting his eyes, has definitely heard everything that just transpired. 

\----------

Patrick calls eight times that evening and leaves just as many voicemails. 

David shoves his cellphone in his bedside table drawer after setting it to Do Not Disturb. He needs to think, to process, and Patrick at this point is notorious for being too much of a distraction. 

David fishes his old laptop out from recesses of his hall closet. He's never watched what happened all those years ago and he knows he probably shouldn't… but he needs to. He needs to see it. What he remembers can't be all there is. 

He grabs a glass container out of the fridge containing one of the meals his personal chef prepares at the start of every week, pops it in the microwave, and waits for his computer to finish a mandatory update. 

He leans against the counter in the kitchen, not taking his eyes off the computer sitting atop his coffee table in the living room. 

He can't stand still for long though. He grabs the glass dish out of the microwave with a tea towel and begins to pace the length of his apartment. His heart skips a beat every time his eye catches sight of the spinning wheel on the tiny screen when he passes through the living room. 

He glances down grumpily at the salmon and asparagus wishing it were pizza. Pizza would make this better, pizza always makes everything better. But he is decidedly not going to retrieve his phone and his computer was apparently protesting his need to use it and no one in their right mind has a home phone anymore.

He finally stops pacing, fork in mouth, when he spies an old picture of him and Alexis at her bat mitzvah greeting him from the desktop. He quickly pulls up YouTube.

He barks out a laugh when the words _"David Rose 2016 Olympic Trials"_ brings up multiple videos of the incident. At least it wasn't hard to find. 

He presses play before he can talk himself out of it. 

"David Rose and Sebastian Raine are still in second place. Without this dive it may be hard to hold on to it,” one of the announcers states as the camera zooms in on Sebastian's face, his eyes focused out over the pool.

"They got at least one 10 in the semi finals on _this_ dive. I don't think it's going to be a problem," the female announcer says.

He watches as the camera pans over to him, his much shorter hair almost enough to make him laugh again. 

He stops breathing as he watches himself count down their takeoff.

He grips the edge of the laptop as they near the end of the board.

He lets out a groan as he watches what was supposed to be a reverse two and a half somersault with two and a half twists but instead he sees his knee crumple and his leg slip off the side of the board. 

He watches as his body smacks harshly onto the calm water below as Sebastian continues on to perform the dive to perfection, entering the water seconds behind him.

When Sebastian surfaces, the set of his jaw tells David he'd at least been aware of what happened. 

By the time Sebastian is exiting the water, a lifeguard has gone in after David.

He doesn't remember this, he's always assumed he'd passed out or gone into shock because he doesn't remember anything until he's lying on the deck of the pool staring at Sebastian's face. 

"Well, seems like we may have misjudged their ability to hold on to second place–" the announcer starts again, but David quickly hits mute, the voices coming from the laptop too much when mixing with the rapid fire thoughts swimming through his own head.

He wonders if Patrick's seen this, if he'd seen it when it had happened. Surely if he'd seen it, he wouldn't be asking him to do it again. 

He's also suddenly eternally grateful to Alexis for keeping this video from playing anywhere near him while he recovered while simultaneously wishing she were here to stop him spiraling now.

As soon as he sees the lifeguards—there are two now—drag his limp body from the water and lay him gently on the deck, he starts the video over. 

He watches it two more times before moving on down the list of related videos, several of people reacting to the incident, a few compilation videos, which he finds wry enjoyment in being placed in a video alongside Greg Louganis. 

By the time he's done, his throat feels nearly swollen shut and his chest is so tight he can't breathe properly. 

He quickly moves the laptop from its spot perched on his knees and puts his head in its place. 

Damn it, it's been awhile since he's had a panic attack, back when he'd have long days of physical therapy and his mind would become too strained to keep it together. 

He thinks about Alexis curling up in bed beside him during those first few months of recovery, prattling on about escaping yachts and diamond mines. 

Normally thoughts about his sister in mortal danger are enough to tip him over the edge but now, it comforts him…That fact she's always made it home.

He shouldn't have watched it, he knows better.

He also needed to see it, to know what he was risking. To justify to himself his decision not to go through with it. 

There are other dives they can try. Maybe not with the same degree of difficulty, but that would still set them apart. Right?

David peels himself off his couch and goes through his evening routine, taking his time with his skincare, knowing that self-care is always a comfort to him.

When he crawls under his covers he finally pulls his phone out of his drawer. Without even unlocking it he can see texts from Patrick on top of the phone calls and voicemails he'd left earlier. He's also got a few from Jocelyn and surprisingly one from Ronnie. 

Once his phone is unlocked he scrolls through Patrick's texts. 

[Patrick] David I'm so sorry.

[Patrick] Please call me.

[Patrick] Let me explain.

[Patrick] I don't want to fight.

[Patrick] Meet me for lunch tomorrow? Pizza? My treat!

David heaves a sigh. He can't avoid Patrick, they've got work to do. 

_Not before noon._

[Patrick] 12:30 then. Joe's?

_K._

He switches over to YouTube again, pulling up a round they'd competed in done before trials. He watches his successful execution of the dive over and over. 

He'd loved doing that dive before the incident. It was exhilarating, that many twists and flips in sync with someone else. 

He knows if he were to try it with Patrick it would be even more magnificent. Sebastian had never understood David's body in the way Patrick does and he'd been sleeping with Sebastian. 

He clicks his phone off, plunging his room into darkness and burrowing under his blankets. 

He'll explain it all to Patrick tomorrow. Patrick will understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying this. It's been so fun for me to write and maybe the most time I've spent on trying to make something really special.


	3. as if the first blood, didn't thrill enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick pushes David to conquer his fears and David tries to learn to trust and our speedo boys grow closer inside and outside of the pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as always! For a link to what the dive in question kinda looks like, please see the link in the notes at the end.

Patrick's already seated at the booth they'd sat in a few months ago when they first came here. He's looking down at his phone so David takes a moment to observe him, hesitating in the doorway and removing his round white framed sunglasses. 

The sun is hitting him right across his eyes as it streams in through the windows, Patrick's hair gleaming no less than eighteen shades of brown and maybe a hint of copper. 

David feels his chest tighten at the thought that he could lose all of this at what feels like any given moment. 

He shuffles to the table, honey colored eyes meeting his once he's nearly there, and sits down across from Patrick. 

"David I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to push you– well I did, but that wasn't the way I wanted to handle it."

David opens his menu even though he absolutely knows what he's getting, and avoids meeting Patrick's gaze.

"I just think it would be crazy of us not to try it. You always managed it so beautifully before."

"I think it's crazy of you to ask me to do this," David says, flipping a page in the menu, still doing his best to look uninterested. 

"But David, you can't let one injury define your life."

He looks up now, his eyes narrowed, "It does define my life. My career could have been over, according to my parents and a handful of others, it should be. I lost too much last time, I won't do it again."

"Won't you at least try? We can work with our trainers, with Joce and Ronnie. You're stronger than you've ever been David."

"It's the principal of the thing. I can't Patrick. I _can't_ lose everything again," he pleads.

And he means it. He can't imagine his life without wondering what Patrick's lips would feel like pressed against his, without Patrick stealing his shammy. Now that he has him– it– this...

"You mean your career?" Patrick whispers, his hand reaching across the table as if he's going to take David's hand in his but instead he just pats it instead. 

"My career… an–and... Last time I lost, I lost everything," he said sliding his hand off the table and into his lap, his eyes moving from Patrick's to the table and back again. 

He still dreams about the look on Sebastian's face that day at the trials except now it's Patrick's sweet face. It's Patrick that leaves him for dead on the deck of a pool, it's Patrick that never cared enough to fight for him.

"David, I'm not Sebastian Raine. I'm not going to leave you if you get injured but you're not–"

"Patrick, you'll have to leave. You'll still have a career. You won't have to be some washed up diver that has to take a coaching job at a community pool,” he bites.

He knows he looks wrecked. He feels wrecked. He can feel his heart rate increase, the shadow of fear threatening to bring him to his knees. 

"You would at least be hired as an assistant coach at a private pool," Patrick starts, but the cut of David's glare is hopefully enough to tell him he's miscalculated.

"That doesn't mean... David surely you understand, understand what this partnership means to me right?" Patrick asks, a hint of desperation in his voice, almost seeming to will David into understanding.

"Yeah, your best shot at the Olympics… why you think that, I'll _never_ know," David replies and closes his eyes, unable to look at Patrick's stupid handsomely earnest face a moment longer.

"David Rose, you're a brilliant diver. One of the best. Y–you're beautiful… you know, when you dive. We're going to the World's and Trials and the Olympics, and we're going to win," Patrick says, with so much confidence David almost believes him.

He risks a glance at Patrick’s face and sees his confidence in them, in him, written across it. And David feels the urge to do everything he can to keep it there. 

"Okay Patrick. I'll try it, but if I'm not feeling it I'm going to ask you never bring it up again," David says stubbornly, his arms crossing over his chest.

"And if you are feeling it, we do it at nationals."

"Fine."

Patrick offers his hand to David to shake on it, because of course he shakes hands, the little nerd. David rolls his eyes and reluctantly shakes Patrick's hand, sealing his fate and his anxiety.

\----------

Music is blaring loudly through someone's bluetooth speaker sitting on the bleachers. It's not the worst choice, this song. 

It's just that his heart seems to be speeding up to match the pace of it. It couldn't be the fact he was standing on the three meter board with Patrick on the other one, ready to do this damn dive.

It's not a hard dive, he's got one on the ten meter with a higher degree of difficulty, it’s not even the hardest dive he’s ever done on a three meter board, he should be able to handle this. 

They've trained for a week, on the mats, on the trampoline, mentally… but now that he's up here, the pool spread out before him and Patrick's kind eyes watching him encouragingly, he can't remember why he'd agreed to it. 

"Can someone turn that music off?!" He calls, his foot dialing the fulcrum back and forth between two spots.

He doesn't look up to see who's moves to turn off the music but he knows that it's Jocelyn. 

As soon as it cuts off the Natatorium is _too quiet._

Fuck.

He can't hear a single sound which means everyone's eyes are on them… on him.

They should've attempted this with an emptier pool. He could've come back later this evening after everyone else had gone home, made Patrick come with him. 

"Okay, can you like… just play something better?"

"David, it's okay." He hears Patrick whisper softly to his right. 

David just shakes his head and settles on a position to leave the fulcrum in though it does nothing to quell the dread that's settled low in his stomach. 

Unrecognizable pop music fills the pool, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. 

"Count us down, I can't do it." He says, his eyes finding Patrick's.

He hears Patrick countdown from three, feels his feet walking down towards the end of the board, his hurdle is as steady as it's always been, but he balks.

His feet hit the end of the board after the hurdle and his knees feel like they're going to buckle and he just, balks. He catches himself before going over the end. 

_Fuck._

Patrick's going to be so disappointed. David's disappointed. 

He can feel his face flushing, the pool filling back up with the sounds of other boards and divers training. 

He's an embarrassment. 

He takes off back down the board and then the ladder, heading for the locker room before Patrick can catch him.

Or he tries at least, he can hear Patrick rushing to catch him. One day Patrick's going to be sick and tired of chasing him into the locker room. 

"You're not supposed to run," he calls over his shoulder, turning the corner and pushing the locker room door open harder than he needs to. 

"You've got to stop taking off for the locker rooms."

"Yeah well Jocelyn can't follow me in here with an inspirational quote," he says plopping down on the bench in front of their lockers. 

"Try again."

"You're joking!"

"No, I'm not. We'll come back tonight. Just the two of us, before the pool closes. I know a lifeguard that would be willing to stay. _Please_ David, just one more time."

"Why? Why is this so important to you?!"

"I want it for _you._ I want you to stop being so damn scared you're going to break," he says, sitting down on the bench next to David, straddling it so he's facing David.

Which is absolutely obscene in that speedo.

David narrows his eyes and crosses his arms, ready to fight back, no amount of visible skin this close enough to fully distract him now. 

But he can't fight back because Patrick's right. He is scared. He's scared all the time, even when he's not thinking about it, it's there under the surface of his skin, lingering. 

As relieved he is to be back, he can tell he's not been quite the same as before. Not throwing himself as fully into the dives as he used to. 

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"This is it though Patrick. If it doesn't work, we forget about it."

"It'll work David."

\----------

By the time they return to the pool it's completely empty but for Derek standing near his usual lifeguard stand.

David watches as Patrick waves at him and rushes off towards him, his charming grin already in place. 

They seem very familiar with each other, all smiles and laughs and Derek places a hand on Patrick's arm _twice._

David shakes his head and sets his things down on the bleachers, removing his shoes and drop-crotch sweatpants, followed by his sweater. He takes his time folding them neatly and placing them into his bag while also glancing at Patrick and Derek over his shoulder.

Patrick claps Derek on the shoulder and heads over to where David is waiting. 

"Well he's cute," David says softly, his eyes moving from Patrick back over to Derek who's now climbing up into the stand.

"Yeah?" Patrick asks, looking over his shoulder like he wasn't sure who David was talking about. 

"Yeah, seems like he might be into you."

"He's not my type," Patrick says before pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it onto the bleachers next to David's things.

"Because he's a he… or–"

"David, stop stalling. Let's do this," Patrick says, his hands clasping David's shoulders tightly before letting go and sloppily removing the rest of clothes. David looks away and resists the urge to make a comment about it. 

"Wanna warm up?"

"Um, no? I want to get this over with so I can go home and have a bottle of wine."

"You do this, that bottle of wine is on me."

"Deal."

David makes Patrick climb the ladder up to the three meter boards ahead of him. He doesn't even stare at Patrick's ass, too much anyway, he's too nervous. 

Patrick's adjusts his fulcrum and leans against the metal railing separating their boards from each other. "Hey David, you've got this. Stop running and start trusting."

David looks over and meets Patrick's eyes and offers him a small smile. "Just count," he says softly.

He hears Patrick countdown from three and he times his steps, his hurdle and his take off perfectly with Patrick's. 

_I've got this. I trust Patrick. I trust myself. It's fine, I'm fine._

He feels his body go into the dive like he hasn't spent years avoiding it. He flips, he twists, and he hits the water perfectly. 

He knows it's perfect, he can tell from the sound of his entry, the way the water envelopes his body. 

He surfaces and he can tell he's crying. The warm tears from his eyes mixing with the slightly cooler temperature of the pool water. 

His legs work harder to keep him above water as his hands move to cover his face. He needs a second to process. He did it. He fucking did the dive and he's not currently being drug out of the pool by Derek. He scans his body for pain, for the slightest twinge and his face breaks out into a grin and he cries harder when he finds none. 

He knows he's been ridiculous. He's been working on the 10 meter for months without worrying but the fear of completing this dive, of doing it again, has been crippling in a way he's never experienced. 

But he's fine. 

He's better than fine. 

He needs to see Patrick's face.

He drops his hand and finds Patrick standing on the edge of the pool, seeming to understand his need to have a moment alone. 

Patrick's face breaks out into a grin after his eyes scan David's face.

The next thing he knows Patrick's flung himself back in the pool and is, impressively, scooping David into his arms in seconds. David let's out a breath at the feeling of Patrick's strong arms wrapped around him. 

He must be mostly weightless in Patrick's arms and he loves the feeling of being held like this, by Patrick.

" _Oh_ ," he breathes as Patrick tucks his head into David's neck.

This feels nice. Patrick feels nice. This is _not_ what partners should be doing… dive partners. Synchro partners don't hug like this. Maybe Stevie was right? Maybe Patrick is–

"You fucking did it buddy," Patrick murmers against his skin. "Congratulations man."

_Buddy_. _Man._

David is so grateful for the reminder and the next thing he knows Patrick is pulling away, his strong arms no longer holding David close.

He misses them instantly. 

He thinks he sees a tinge of pink on Patrick's cheeks for a split second but then he's swimming back to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out, so David follows. 

"Wanna do it again?" Patrick asks, gesturing over his shoulder towards the boards.

"Would you be upset if I said no? We can, we can work on it tomorrow with Jocelyn and Ronnie. I would like takeout and an entire bottle of wine now please."

Patrick tilts his head back and laughs. "Okay, David."

\----------

"This isn't too far from my place. I mean, I wouldn't walk but, you know… close enough?" David mumbles nervously as they take the elevator up to Patrick's apartment. 

He runs his fingers through his still damp hair, upset he didn't take a shower before leaving the pool. He hates letting pool water dry in his hair, memories of chlorine fried hair swim behind his eyes.

Patrick looks over at him and rolls his eyes as if he can read his thoughts. "You can use my shower if you want?" Patrick offers.

"No, it's fine."

He's agreed to go to Patrick's apartment, after nearly losing his shit while being held by Patrick in the pool less than an hour ago. There's no way in hell he's getting naked in Patrick's shower.

Patrick just grins at David over his shoulder as they exit the elevator and make their way down the hall, once again as if he's reading David's mind.

" _Oh_ , this is nice!" David says as Patrick let's them into the apartment.

"You sound surprised?" Patrick says toeing his shoes off next to the front door and padding further into the apartment, flipping a few lights and lamps on as he goes. 

Patrick's place has a very industrial feel to it while still feeling very cozy. Rich blues and soft grey's mixing with the warm leather of his couch and chairs. 

He wants to snoop, but he wants wine more.

"Well, I've seen the state of your locker," David finally says, making his way towards Patrick's kitchen area.

"It's a mess because I keep an obscene amount of snacks in it."

"Oh, right. That's why you've got t-shirts scrunched into balls and socks thrown all in there?"

"Yeah? It's also a locker."

"Right… but you've seen my locker right? That's indicative of my own home? Everything is in order and has a place."

"Yeah, that tracks for you." Patrick says leaning against the counter, his eyes following David as he continues to take in the space.

"I was also told you had food? And alcohol?"

"I ordered chinese before we left so it'll be here in a few minutes… glasses are in that cabinet," Patrick says pointing to the cabinet closest to the fridge.

He pulls out two glasses and finds the wine bottle opener automatically, moving through Patrick's kitchen like he's been there before, all the cabinets and drawers sensibly laid out. 

Patrick is waiting, bottle of wine in hand, when David turns around.

Patrick opens the bottle and David gives them both a healthy pour. And suddenly, it all starts feeling a bit domestic. 

But it's easy, this feels easy with Patrick. Drinking wine and waiting on takeout after a day of training. It feels dangerously like something he could get used to, and for the first time maybe ever, it doesn’t make David feel like he needs to run.

"How much food did you order?" David asks in an attempt to chase away his thoughts of domesticity.

"Just one dish, I figured we could split it? Orange chicken right?" Patrick says hiding his grin by taking a sip of his wine, leading David over to his couch. 

Patrick's hand brushes briefly across David's lower back. So much for those thoughts leaving.

"One orange chicken?!" He asks once he finally processes what Patrick's just said. 

"David, you act like I don't know your eating habits," he says, taking another sip of his wine.

"Okay… so you ordered at least two orange chickens then?"

Once the food arrives David's already on his second glass of wine, Patrick not too far behind. It's very clear by the amount of bags Patrick gets from the delivery woman that he may have ordered one of everything on the menu.

"When you said you understood my eating habits you meant…"

"Well, I wasn't sure what exactly you'd want so I just got a variety. But you like a lot of things and I wanted you to feel… celebrated? Appreciated?" Patrick says, and there's no mistaking the blush on his cheeks this time.

"Well thank you Patrick. That's… very lovely."

"Yes Patrick, I also appreciate you too."

"Mmm. A bold claim." David says, his face doing a lovely journey from amused to flattered, his mouth finally settling to the side in a happy grin.

"Anyway, I do appreciate you uh, well, you being brave and trying the dive and… it's really going to give us the push we need I think so, cheers?" Patrick rushes out, picking up his wine glass and holding it out for David to clink his to. 

He does, his smile very much staying put. 

"Can we eat now?"

"Yeah David, we can eat now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <https://www.instagram.com/p/B8hTyCvFjZJ/>
> 
> This chapter is one of my favorites I think. I love the moments of them figuring each other out and getting closer. It's so sweet.


	4. drain the fantasy of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys at their first competition! Complete with anxiety, flirting, and Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as always! Special shout outs to Emu, ships-to-sail, and everyone's favorite boston terrier.

David is extremely glad they have a competition before the start of the Olympic season. They won't have another until after the holiday season, and at that point everything they do will be working towards making it to trials because their first competition will be the first weekend in March. After that it's a mad dash.

Nationals still feel like a big deal though. Any competition feels like a big deal after spending so long thinking he'd never compete again. Even after months of training, it doesn't hit him until he walks with Patrick through the double doors into the pool.

He pauses just inside and takes a deep breath, the bank of diving boards looming in the distance. 

He shakes his limbs, losing feeling in his body quickly as his anxiety spikes. He feels Patrick loop his arm through his to continue to pull him further into the building, past the swimming lanes, bleachers, and other divers milling about. 

The rush and high anxiety feel of a competition used to comfort David. Now, it feels foreign… He feels overstimulated, on edge. 

David wishes he didn't feel like such a burden to Patrick, but as much as he wants this experience to be good for him, he's equally as frightened of letting him down. He knows he has to perform well for Patrick, for their team. He doesn't want to give Patrick any excuse to regret his decision to be here with him. For taking a chance on him. 

David watches Patrick. His walk is confident. He smiles and waves at other divers, other coaches… like the goddamn social butterfly he is. He can’t imagine how his sour face and poor posture looks being dragged about by this golden boy. 

They've got a day to train and get used to the pool before competing in their individual event prelims the next day. 

Patrick takes his place at the 3 meter diving boards while David continues up the ladder to the 10 meter. 

_ "David, I just don't think you're up to competing in more than the synchro category… you know how sensitive you are. You're like, terrified and it's beautiful but… I think if you just, you know, lost or performed poorly, it could affect our partnership in the pool and privately, you know?" Sebastian said as he was perched on top of David, his mouth hanging open in the way David despised.  _

_ "I'm not sensitive," he grumbled and that in itself proved Sebastian's point.  _

_ Maybe he was right. If he lost the platform would it psych him out for the synchro round? He'd talk to his coach tomorrow, pull his name from the running.  _

_ Sebastian lifted David's hand to his mouth and pressed small kisses along the skin leading all the way up to his shoulder.  _

_ "Just trust me, we're going to make it all the way this year, David. You and me, against the world." _

_ And Sebastian's lips met his, and all arguments about the upcoming meet were in the past as Sebastian claimed David's body and mind as his own.  _

He nervously shakes his arms and legs again, as well as the memory from his brain. This is his safe place. Whether Sebastian is physically there or mentally, he's not gonna let him win.

Sighing, he tries not to think too much about how many looks he's getting, how many eyes follow him as if they're waiting for his knee to give out. 

He absolutely doesn't think about the years of Sebastian telling him he wasn't good enough to compete on platform.

The years he'd failed.

Once he lets those thoughts and memories run through his mind he glances down at Patrick talking to Ronnie on the deck of the pool, and he warms up like he's ready to win.

The whispers lessen after his first dive and the inner voices completely fade when he surfaces from a particularly clean dive to see Patrick's face beaming at him from the end of a three meter board.

He's watching Patrick from underneath the platforms when he feels a hand clap on his shoulder. 

He squeezes his eyes shut before turning, instantly worried it's Sebastian.

"David! It's so good to see you back on the board!"

_ Oh thank God.  _

"Ted, it's so great to see you too," he says and he means it. Ted has always been nice to David, even when they're competing against each other, which they haven't in forever because David hasn't competed in the 10 meter event since before he even hurt his knee. 

"I'm glad you're back man, and you look like you're even better than before!"

David smiles softly, "thanks Ted."

"Well, I'll see ya back up there, big guy."

It seems after Ted broke whatever rule there was against talking to David, everyone else felt free to offer their congratulations on him making it back to the competition circuit. He leaves the pool feeling much better than he did. 

Jake's flirtatious comments about how good he fills out his speedo weren't even enough to throw him off.

He also didn't have to see Sebastian. That always helps. 

He knows now that Jake has taken his spot as Sebastian's synchro partner, and he can't think of two people better suited for each other than those two.

The amount of fucks either of them give has to be in the negatives… but at least Jake is  _ nice _ .

\----------

David competes against Sebastian the next day though, so he can't quite avoid seeing him, but Ted acts like some kind of buffer between the two men… though David thinks it's completely accidental. 

Ted's just a chatter and if David finds himself alone, he takes a moment to talk with Jocelyn.

Sebastian doesn't try to speak to him though, not really. He seems like he's trying to do his best to win.

David suspects he's doing his best to beat David. 

He doesn't though. David finishes first. It doesn't matter in the long run, it's just the qualifying round, but David's still proud of himself. 

He has too much to prove.

Patrick finishes second in his qualifying round, which David watches from the stands. His entry on his second to last dive is what pushes him out of first. He'll correct it in the next round, David knows he will. 

Ted and Jake knock David out of first and second place when it comes to the final round of the men's 10 meter. 

He's okay with it though, as okay with losing as he’s ever been. It's his first competition back and he still beat Sebastian, which feels a whole hell of a lot like a victory. 

Patrick wins his individual round though, and the hug David gets from him after makes him feel like he's got a gold medal around his neck too.

He also manages to avoid Sebastian for the rest of the meet strangely enough. Though, he thinks he possibly has Patrick to thank for that, if all the times Patrick suddenly pulls him down a random corridor or the amount of times they switch direction all the sudden mean anything.

The first time Patrick manhandles David down a corridor, he's hopeful maybe he's finally become much too tempting for Patrick and he is going to get the hell kissed out of him, but no such luck. Patrick merely excuses it away with wanting to take the scenic route, which didn't lead them anywhere other than to the concession stand, which David is almost equally as happy about.

If he isn't going to get to stick his tongue down Patrick's throat, the least Patrick can do is buy him some nachos.

So they snack and then catch the end of the women's synchronized 10 meter finals, happily cheering along Stevie and Twyla much too loudly from their spot in the stands.

If David lets his hands brush the back of Patrick's as they jump up and down beside each other as Stevie and Twyla take the gold, well, that’s purely by accident. If he goes to bed that night thinking about the feeling… that’s most definitely on purpose. 

\----------

They perform well enough in the qualifying rounds of synchro that they get to keep diving, but not well enough for David's standards. They come in fourth and then fifth, losing to Sebastian and Jake both times. 

David can tell he's nervous but after their low placement in the last round he’s pissed. He hadn’t realized how much losing to Sebastian would affect him but he feels awful. He feels like he’s already let Patrick down. He's pulling out of the dives a little sooner than he should… under rotating. He’s a mess and he’s spirialing. 

Diving with Patrick at home feels like... well... home. This feels a bit too much like it did before. The crowds and the noise and Sebastian standing there watching them makes him feel a twinge in his knee.

He stalls in the locker room, pulling his black athletic tape out of his bag. He’s not worn tape in months, not since he began diving with Patrick, but he feels like he needs it, the twinge in his knee he’s been feeling all day enough to make him nervous. 

He’s sure it's nerves… paranoia. But he won't risk it. He’s vibrating as the anxiety takes over his body and he needs something to do with his hands, something to make this feel less out of his control. So, he’s going to tape his knee. He knows it’ll just draw attention to the fact he hurt his knee, but right now he doesn’t care. There’s not a person in this pool that doesn’t already know anyway. He’s seen the glances.

He can feel Patrick hovering by his own locker. Something’s been on his mind all day, David can tell. He wanted to say something over breakfast, on the cab ride from the hotel, maybe he’ll finally spit it out. David’s sure he’s harboring some hard feelings about the way David’s been diving, though Patrick’s not actually done anything to make David think that. David’s probably harboring enough ill feelings about himself for the both of them.

He rips a piece of tape of the roll and smooths it into a curve just below his knee cap.

He wants to win. He wants to throw this dive and his healed knee is Sebastian's face. He wants this for himself, for Patrick… and these thoughts are running through his brain like a storm. 

"David," Patrick says, pulling David back to the surface of his consciousness. Patrick is kneeling before him, the roll of athletic tape in one hand, his other moving to hold David’s ankle.

Patrick sits back on his heels and places David’s foot on his thigh before pulling another piece of tape off the roll.

David does his best to take a deep breath before relaxing into Patrick's touch, "I'm fine."

"You're not, and it's okay. You've gotta trust yourself. Pretend we're back home alone in the pool like we were that night you did that dive for the first time? Do you remember how you felt?" Patrick says softly, placing the black tape up along one side of David’s bad knee. He’s not sure how Patrick knows exactly how he tapes his knee but he’s flattered. He feels his body relax as it floods with warm affection for the man kneeling before him.

After the last piece of tape is firmly in place Patrick runs his thumb soothingly along the skin of David’s calf, a quiet hum of approval escaping David’s throat before he finally registers what Patrick had asked him.

David closes his eyes and thinks about that night all those weeks ago. He remembers surfacing after he completed the dive. He'd felt so good, so proud. Patrick had held him close for those cherished moments in the water. 

He feels his chest loosen more and his shoulder drop back down to their normal height. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, let's do this."

A blindingly bright smile spreads across Patrick's face as he stands and pulls David to his feet, centimeters separating them as they stand between the bench and the bank of lockers. David swears he sees Patrick glance down at his lips and sway closer.. David's never been one for public displays, but here, right now, he'll take Patrick anyway he can get him.

Which seems to be as a friend and a partner as Patrick takes a step back and starts fiddling with his shammy. 

He'll take that Patrick too. 

They're taking to the boards not long after that. They perform perfectly in the first two rounds, everyone is required to do two dives with a 2.0 degree of difficulty. The next four rounds are the fun ones. 

Everyone trades off with a front two and a half. Back three and a halfs. There was even a forward four and a half in there from one team. 

It's a lot. It's thrilling, this final round, and David is feeling  _ good.  _ He can tell he's diving better, can see it in the easy set of Patrick's shoulders as he counts them down. Can hear it in Patrick's voice as he teases him in the hot tub. 

They're going to do this.

It's not unheard of, someone coming out of retirement or back after an injury placing… Winning. Kassidy Cook from Team USA is in the process of doing that herself this season.

He just never thought it would be him. 

"Hey, final round, you ready?" He hears Patrick ask from behind him as he climbs the ladder up to the boards.

"Yeah, I am."

"We've got a decent lead. We nail this… David we place."

"I know."

"I'm… I'm really proud of you David. Proud to be here with you," he says softly taking his place on the board next to David's.

David blinks hard at Patrick's words. Sebastian was never proud of David… he’d been ashamed from start to finish.

_ His ears are ringing and the fluorescents overhead are way too bright, and all he can feel is hot, hot pain radiating from his knee. Hot, hot tears pouring down his face. _

_ He's not sure how he even ended up on the deck. He vividly remembers falling off the end of the board and entering the water. _

_ He must not have been able to swim. Someone must've pulled him out. Was it Sebastian? _

_ Where was Sebastian? _

_ He can’t get a breath. A cameraman nudges in over his coach's shoulder. _

_ His hands tremble as he clutches at his knee—like if he can hold it, it’ll all go back to normal—over the hands of the trainer who’s trying to calm him before she can actually help him. _

_ He blinks up and finds Sebastian, ten feet away with his hands in his hair. The look on his face isn’t worry or concern. It’s anger. Pure, unadulterated anger.  _

_ Oh, so that's where Sebastian went. Judging by the state of the lifeguard over Sebastian's shoulder he hadn't been the one to pull him from the pool. Apparently all he'd done was get angry. _

_ David isn't sure he can blame him.  _

_ It’s over. Everything’s over. _

David inhales through his nose deeply as he hears Patrick's fulcrum roll into place. "Okay, you can be earnest later. Right now, be ruthless."

Patrick laughs, his head tilting back enough to make the line of his neck somehow even more tempting than it normally does.

"Okay, David."

David rolls his eyes at Patrick's signature "okay, David" which seems to be code for "I'm the funny one in this partnership". 

Patrick counts them down and they're off. 

It’s four steps down the length of the board, then a hurdle, and then he’s at the end of the board and his knee is fine. It’s great. 

His body flips and twists through the air and he feels like he’s flying, like he’s spectacular. 

They nail it because of course they do. And David is ecstatic. 

The only thing that feels better than securing their spot on the podium is the feeling of Patrick's warm arms wrapped around David's middle, his thick arms squeezing David so tightly he’s surprised his feet don’t leave the deck of the pool. 

He's going to catch fire if this guy doesn't quit touching him like this. 

He may also burn alive if he stops. 

They finish second to the team that pulled a forward four and a half out of nowhere. Their execution wasn't nearly as clean but the degree of difficulty on that dive is enough to edge them just above David and Patrick. 

The look on Sebastian's face isn't unlike the one he'd seen on his face all those years ago after his incident as he and Jake stand off to the side during the medal ceremony, not quite performing well enough to place. 

David does his best not to be too smug about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I wasn't overly confident about this chapter but, we're moving forward and getting closer to halfway mark!


	5. when you kiss me, i wish we could see what happens next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys get to their first competition of the Olympic season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as always! I'd also like to dedicate this chapter to last night's episode because HOLY SCHITT.

David knows, based on his past relationship and partnership with Sebastian, that avoiding him at the FINA World Championship is going to be a problem.

No amount of, however delightful, manhandling from Patrick is going to save him this time. And it's only the second day until he's proven right. 

He and Patrick just finished up exceedingly spectacular warm-ups for their competitions that will take place over the next few days. Ronnie grabs Patrick before they are able to make it to the locker room, leaving David to continue on his own.

It isn't that he doesn't like being without Patrick, well it is that, but it's because he  _ likes  _ Patrick. He's gotten so used to their locker room chats over the last several months that the locker room feels empty without him. 

He knows he's in trouble, that he's relying too much on Patrick, he knows that… and he doesn't want that again, not after–

The loud slamming of a locker brings him out of his head.

"Well look at you. You look  _ really  _ healthy," a falsely sweet voice says from behind him. 

_ Fuck. _

"I  _ am _ , not that it should matter to you," David says coolly. He knows he can't give Sebastian an ounce of room to get under his skin, he's always been a bit of a savant at getting David stirred up. 

"Of course it matters to me David. You should know that, after everything we've been through. Your health is very important. I'm glad to see it's good enough to have brought you back here. You did exceptionally well at the last meet," the words coming from a mouth that is now far too close for comfort.

" _ We've been through?"  _ David sneers, slamming his own locker and spinning around on his heel so fast he surprises himself, his hand having to catch his balance.

So much for not letting him get under his skin.

Sebastian looks the same as he always does. His homeless chic cardigan, his distressed shirt that was purchased to look exactly like Patrick's old gym shirts always do, where the collar is stretched from being taken off incorrectly. His mouth hangs open in the way that always drives David crazy, his confidence heavy on him, wearing it like a cloak.

He can't believe he ever liked this guy. Dated? Sure, he was hot, still is. But David had imagined a future of diving and a relationship with him.

"I blew my fucking knee and you just  _ stood  _ there with that stupid look on your face you get when you take a bad picture for your Instagram. You didn't call, you didn't text… you never once came to visit. My career was over and I didn't get  _ one  _ word from you. As a matter of fact, this is the first I've heard from you  _ since. _ "

"Well that's just it, your career was over and frankly it _ still  _ is. Mine's not. What good would continuing our relationship have been?" Sebastian says, propping one of his feet up against the bench that sits between them.

"We were  _ dating! _ " David says, his hands lifting and flailing in disbelief. 

"Oh David, we both know that was just a good occasional fuck. It's so convenient to sleep with one's partner. I mean, it's basically an all access pass right? Remember all the shared hotel rooms and even that one time on that airplane when you–"

_ Convenient.  _ David's been called a lot of things but for some reason that word feels like it's lit his body on fire, and not in the fun way Patrick's presence does.

"So it was... convenient _... _ for you? _ I _ was  _ convenient _ for you? I mean, at this point I gathered it hadn't meant much of anything to you, but a... convenience fuck? Really?" David spits, the words filthy on his tongue. 

God David had been so wrong. Sebastian had never cared about anyone but himself. He'd spent so long defending him to Alexis, to Stevie. To anyone that had ever cared about him.

"Don't tell me your not fucking that hot slice you're diving with now. The thighs alone. Brewer is hauntingly beautiful in an extremely unassuming way."

David wants to throw up and throw something at Sebastian simultaneously. Patrick is beautiful and he can be unassuming about it, but he doesn't want to hear Sebastian talking about it.

"You  _ do not _ get to talk about Patrick's thighs, and no… we're not  _ fucking _ ," David spits, possibly making the word fuck sound the dirtiest he ever had, and not even in the fun way.

He knows all about Patrick's thighs and normally would jump at the chance to agree with someone else beholding their magnificence, but not Sebastian.

"Awe, but you'd like to. Look at you defending his honor. I have to admit though David, I don't see you getting much further in this journey back to Olympic gold, maybe you should start tapping that before you blow your knee again. I think you'll find anyone would leave you in that situation. Even sweet Pat," Sebastian says, shouldering his backpack, his face suddenly slipping to uninterested. 

"Okay. We're not talking about Patrick and tapping in the same sentence and furthermore, you have no right to comment on anything I choose to do with my life now. You lost that right when you left me drowning in a pool at Trials," he says, his hackles fully raised now.

"You'll see David, once again you'll amount to nothing and leave another poor guy stranded with a bum partner and an empty bed," he offers with a small shrug as he steps over the bench towards David, moving to place a hand on his shoulder, which David quickly brushes off.

"Everything okay in here?" 

David's eyes shoot to the doorway to find Patrick standing there, clearly having been there longer than a few moments if the set of his jaw and look of pure rage on his face are anything to go by.

David really hopes he didn't hear him defending his thighs. 

David quickly turns back towards his locker and fumbles with the lock, unable to look at Sebastian and especially Patrick. 

"Just giving David some advice… you'll have to let me know if he takes it," Sebastian says smoothly and then David hears the door click shut behind him as he exits. 

"Wow, that guy is a skeez," Patrick says, opening his locker that's right next to David's, which is far closer than David can stand him to be at the moment. He grabs his shower bag and heads deeper into the locker room without another word, his shower sandals shuffling loudly against the concrete floors and reverberating through the room.

As soon as he steps under the hot spray he takes a deep shaky breath and lets a few hot tears escape down his cheek, blending in with the water falling from the showerhead. Behind the nearly see-through white shower curtain he allows himself to process what just happened. 

He resists the urge to lean forward and place his head between his thighs, his chest painfully tight.

Sebastian had never cared, even before he ruined their chances to make it to London. He supposes he probably should have gathered that much, but it's something else to hear it, admitted so plainly to his face all these years later.

Sebastian also seems to think David is bound to blow his knee and his chances again, which if David's honest, he feels like he's just waiting for that to happen too. 

David has spent his entire life waiting for the other shoe to drop. Whether it was nights waiting for Alexis to get home when they were in high school, or when they were older and he was waiting to hear back from whatever embassy he had to contact that day on her behalf. 

And then there was all that stuff he'd said about–

"David?" Came Patrick's tentative voice and David could just make out his stocky silhouette through the curtain. 

"Mmm?" He mumbled, not yet trusting his voice.

His chest doesn't know how to react. He normally finds comfort in Patrick's nearness but now it feels charged, electric. It's like his chest loosens just enough to flutter hopelessly.

"You know he was wrong right?"

"Was he? About which part?" David asks, disbelief settling deep into his bones.

"Well, I didn't hear all of it I guess, but the part about you leaving me with a bum partner. All of your doctors say you're fine, we placed well at Nationals just in case you forgot and well, as far as the empty bed thing goes... I'm gonna, I'm coming in," and then Patrick is pulling back the curtain of David's shower slow enough to give him time to react and suddenly David is very grateful he refuses to shower nude in public locker rooms for an entirely different reason.

David stands there beneath the hot spray equally thrilled and mortified Patrick thought walking into his shower was okay. He's had his chance to reject him and he hasn't, he doesn't think he has the willpower to, he sure as hell doesn't want to.

"If you were sharing my bed and you blew your knee… you'd just have to share it full time. I'd even get one of those adjustable ones with the little–" but David doesn't hear the end of that sentence because somehow his mouth has found Patrick's and his hands are pulling Patrick by the hips under the spray with him. 

He isn't sure who kissed who, but judging from the end of Patrick's sentence disappearing into his own mouth he can only assume it was him.

Patrick grunts softly and his shower caddy clatters to the floor loudly as his strong arms wrap around David's back, his warm palms moving across his slick skin. 

God, he's going to owe Stevie the  _ biggest  _ pizza. Two pizzas. This kiss is worth a lifetime of pizzas. He can feel the kiss reverberating through his entire being, he feels it in his fucking knee caps like some damsel in an 80s movie.

He wants to spend hours drinking in Patrick's sweet kisses, days exploring the taste of his mouth. 

David runs his fingers through Patrick's close cropped hair and his tongue along Patrick's bottom lip before licking inside. Patrick's body shivers as David caresses Patrick's tongue with his own. 

At the sound of Patrick's encouraging groan David spins them around and pushes Patrick up against the shower wall and pulls back long enough to pull the curtain closed.

At the break of the kiss Patrick attaches his lips to David's neck and then his shoulders and then to his collarbone. 

David hands explore Patrick's back, eventually dropping one of his hands to Patrick's gorgeous thigh, pulling it up around his hip.

David's hips press Patrick's against the cool tile as he basks in the feeling of the other man's lips tracing nearly every inch of reachable skin. 

Hips buck uncontrollably and David's head falls back, the expanse of his neck now exposed for Patrick's hot mouth to take advantage of, and he does. 

How have they not done this sooner? In the heat of the moment David is having a difficult time coming up with one reason why he's been so hesitant.

Oh right...

" _ Patrick,"  _ he whispers and pushes against Patrick's firm chest, dropping his leg abruptly, and taking a half step back, putting some distance between them.

As David works on catching his breath and getting his pulse regulated he listens for signs of other people in the locker room. Once he's sure they're alone he meets Patrick's eyes.

He looks as thoroughly debauched as David feels.

"We should talk," he says softly.

"David I–"

He can see Patrick's heart in his eyes. He's always known they were loud, but mixing them with his swollen lips and rapidly rising chest is too much to bear.

"Let me, let me get this out, please," he speaks, his eyes squeezing tightly shut. He takes several steadying breaths. When he finally reopens them, Patrick nods for him to continue.

"I–Its not that I don't, that I didn't want, that I don't want… it's just everything with Sebastian," he pauses and shakes his head.

"Everything he just said, it was a lot. I don't want to–I want to make sure, when we do this, if you want to do this, that is, that my head is clear."

David doesn't pull away when Patrick reaches out and laces both of their hands together even though everything in him is telling him he should.

That even the most innocent of touches might be enough to let himself fall back into Patrick's orbit.

"I  _ can't  _ risk losing you as a partner and a, well, whatever this ends up being. But also a friend. You're my only friend other than Stevie and I know you're not Sebastian, you're different Patrick and if I were to… I can't." He says, his voice is raw and broken and full of emotions that are apparently spilling out without his permission.

"David, I'm not going anywhere, I've already told you that. And you're not going anywhere either. Your knee is  _ fine. _ "

And then Patrick is kissing each of his knuckles individually. David carefully pulls his hand from Patrick's grip, his fingers brushing briefly against the other man's cheek in an attempt to reassure the both of them, before falling lamely to his side.

"It was fine before and then it wasn't," he argues half-heartedly.

"I know but, look David, if you'd rather… wait, I'll wait. God I'll wait another four years for a chance to kiss you. I'm all in David. Diving, kissing, all of it," Patrick says, his eyes glistening and his voice steady and strong.

"Okay. You're ridiculous and a little incredible," David says, his lips screwing up in an attempt to avoid the full on smile he can feel trying to escape.

"Can we just, let's get through this weekend, through World's and then we can discuss it when we get back home?"

"Okay David."

That's a different "okay David" it's not Patrick mocking him or showing how amused he is by David's antics… it's genuine and earnest and David could live another hundred years and never deserve this man.

"It's not that I don't trust you, I just have trust issues and I know you're not– last time I mixed personal and professional I came out not– I came out broken in more ways than one." 

Patrick pulls David forward by his hips and wraps his arms tightly around him. "It's okay David. I understand. I can wait. And if you'll let me, maybe I can help put you back together."

\----------

_ "What do you mean you're going out? We just qualified for the Olympic Trials. Shouldn't we," he paused to shimmy his shoulders, "celebrate?" _

_ "We've got all the time in the world to celebrate but when the British team invites you out, you go." Sebastian said from his place in front of the mirror, smoothing down the sides of his disgusting designer sweater.  _

_ "Should I come with you?" David said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, readying himself to find his discarded shoes. _

_ "No! I mean, no David, they didn't invite you."  _

_ "Why would they invite you and not me?" He asked, folding his legs up to his chest. _

_ "They probably saw you devouring those nachos when we were in the stands today watching your friend," Sebastian said, lacing up his vintage doc martens. _

_ "Um, they were really good and Stevie is your friend too!" _

_ "No she's not. She hates me." _

_ Well, that was true. Stevie did hate Sebastian. She always told David he didn't treat him right to which David always replied, "I'm not going to do any better." _

_ "Well, if you're sure you don't want to stay and–" _

_ "You're as clingy as you are handsome. Stop worrying David. I'll be back, but probably pretty late. You won't want to wait up," Sebastian said, the tone of his voice very clear everything he just said was complimentary.  _

_ David tilted his chin up as Sebastian neared, knowing he was at least going to get a kiss goodbye but Sebastian simply dropped a kiss to his right cheek, a move purely used to pacify David, and headed out the door without a glance back.  _

_ When Sebastian returned that night David was curled up on the far side of the bed, his eyes puffy from crying, staring out the window, the covers tucked around every inch of him.  _

_ He heard Sebastian stumble into the dresser, kicking off his doc martens before heading into the bathroom to shower.  _

_ David wasn't an idiot, though he was certain Sebastian thought he was. He always showered after sex. _

_ David lay awake the rest of the night, Sebastian's arm wrapped around him, the other man's breath even and deep.  _

_ He laid completely still the following morning as Sebastian took him up on his offer to celebrate his victory, feeling like his life had reached a new low.  _

_ But there's no way he deserved any better than this. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote all of my favorite scenes after a few beers at my favorite local brewery, so you can think stouts for that shower scene.


	6. for a moment i could forget what happens in my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In our longest chapter yet, these diving boys compete and are cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as always but I'd also like to dedicate this chapter to Nora's face. Thanks!

“Oh and there’s a really great restaurant where they make these little short rib things that are to die for. Definitely have to go there…” David mumbles more to himself than to Patrick. 

There are so many places and things he wants Patrick to experience he was having trouble pinpointing where to begin. Did he also drag Patrick out on their one free day because he wants to think about anything other than the fact this weekend determines their Olympic fate? Most definitely. 

He’s glad Patrick is enough of a distraction, but he’d be even more distracting if David would let himself kiss him again… but that would be too distracting? Too consuming? More consuming than the desire to be kissing him? He’s not sure, which is why he’s standing by his prior judgement of waiting. 

"You know, I have been to Montreal before, right?" 

"Of course, what good Canadian hasn't? But you haven't been here with me."

"Okay–" Patrick starts and David is sure he's going to say his name so he glares at him, his face scrunching up and his eyes ready to roll.

It was taking every ounce of self control not to reach out and take Patrick's hand as they make their way through the streets of Montreal, getting closer and closer to The Old Port.

Patrick looks exceptionally cute today, all bundled up in his team puffer jacket, scarf and toque not quite pulled over his ears. 

“Do you ever wear anything that’s not got our team logo on it?” David asks, his gloved hand poking at the logo on fold of his hat.

“It’s all I brought, it’s this of nothing,” Patrick says, and if David hadn’t been look at his face he would’ve thought the reference to him being naked was simply a figure of speech, but judging from the crinkles around Patrick's eyes put there by his grin, he’s well aware of what he’s doing. 

“ _ Patrick _ ,” David whines, his elbow bumping Patrick’s because he just can’t stop fucking touching him. 

The tip of his nose is pink and David wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss Patrick all the time now, it’s like a constant need buzzing just under the surface of his skin. 

He knows what those kisses feel like, what he tastes like and he's already addicted to chasing the feel of Patrick's soft lips. 

They agreed, under David's suggestion, to keep it professional and friendly until they return home, but the look of fondness and wonder on Patrick's face has him regretting every suggestion he's made since that very intense moment in the locker room shower. 

He can't help but place that expression into different scenarios and  _ positions _ . 

"How many times have you been here?"

"A bunch? When we get to Tokyo though, that'll be a completely different story. I've been to Japan more times than I can count," David says, doing his best not to overthink that fact he seems to have suddenly accepted the fact they're going to the 2020 Olympics, prior to them actually qualifying. 

"Why?"

David shrugs which causes his fingers to brush against Patrick's, okay maybe he did it on purpose, "it's just... magical? The food, the shopping, the culture… all of it. Before, it was easy to get lost in it all you know? I liked that, not thinking… just existing. I don’t feel like that anymore. I want to experience it with you, together."

David looks in the opposite direction of Patrick after his confession, not willing to see the look on the other man's face. Imagining what his loud eyes are doing is enough for him.

" _ David _ ," Patrick says, mimicking David’s quiet outrage in the face of feelings. 

"I know, I know… I'm sorry. I meant what I said, about… needing time but i–it doesn't mean I don't feel that way. About you," he says with a shrug before veering off to look in the store front of a charming little boutique. 

He can feel Patrick's eyes following him, followed by the sound of him not far behind him. He likes this, about Patrick. In the past, he always felt like he was following… with Patrick, it feels like they follow each other. It feels equal, mutual. 

David can't help himself, something about Patrick makes him feel safe in a way he's never experienced before. He wants to hate how open and vulnerable it's made him but he can't bring himself to truly disparage it.

He sucks his lips into his mouth to suppress a smile as Patrick comfortably takes up the space beside him as they browse the rest of the store fronts, their gloved hands brushing often.

They make their way to a street nearby that's heavily lined with trees. He can't believe he voluntarily left the warmth of his hotel room for an afternoon outside in this weather.

It's not snowing, but it's recently snowed, the sidewalks lightly lined in a clean powder, the wind blowing flakes around them from the branches of the trees. It's  _ nice. _

He walks with his shoulder pressed lightly against Patrick's, sharing some of Patrick's hot tea after having finished his own hot chocolate a few streets back. 

David takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to absorb as much of this moment as he can. The snow flakes falling around them as the wind softly blows, the smell of the trees mixed with the smell of the city, he hopes it's enough to imprint it into his memory forever. 

He stops walking abruptly, his hand reaching to brush a few flakes from the top of Patrick's hat and a few from the few short curls poking out from underneath it, a delighted laugh escaping from his lips. He presses his gloved hands over Patrick’s ears, that should definitely be underneath his toque. 

"I want to kiss you," Patrick whispers softly.

"I know," he whispers back softly, the air between them warm despite the temperature. 

They slowly start making their way back to reality. Stevie and Twyla have their final round of synchro tonight and David wouldn’t miss it for anything. 

They stop for a quick bite to eat. He lets Patrick steal bites off his plate, shares his water bottle, even leans casually against him on the bus. He hopes, desperately, the rest of his days can look and feel like today did, just with significantly more hand holding and kissing. 

\----------

To anyone else, it looks like nothing. To David, it looks like Stevie's very sad attempt at flirting, which is why it isn't that big of a deal that it is currently happening, on the deck of the pool, during the finals round of the women's synchronized 10 meter.

He watches Stevie ring her ponytail out over her shoulder as she stands beside the hot tub with Twyla. 

Twyla, who conveniently seems to have forgotten her frankly very loud tie-dyed shammy back in the locker room.

God Stevie is clueless, this was the oldest trick in the book, however incorrect sharing shammies is.

He watches as Stevie hands hers over to Twyla who takes it thankfully, with what he can only assume is a sweet airy smile. He's unfortunately far enough away that he can't quite make out their faces when the cameras aren't focusing on them.

"She's getting lucky later," he says, leaning over to whisper in Patrick's ear, which probably isn't his best move considering he's dealing with his own amount of charged flirtation. 

"What?"

"Stevie and  _ Twyla, _ " he says, turning his head to waggle his eyebrows at Patrick suggestively. 

"Oh, are they… a thing?" Patrick asks, trying to steal a nacho from the container on David's lap.

"Not yet, but they will be by the end of the night," he says certainly, swatting Patrick's hand away, as more of an excuse to touch him than anything else because he immediately offers him the tray. 

“We’re in training with them every day, how have you not noticed?” David asks before shoving an entire nacho in his mouth.

“I was a little busy worrying about whether or not this really hot guy was into me or not,” Patrick whispers, leaning in close enough that David can feel his warm breath against the side of his face.

David nearly chokes the nacho down. So much for hot. But Patrick doesn’t seem to mind. He just chuckles and shoves his own nacho in his mouth too. David stares at the bit of nacho cheese sitting at the corner of Patrick’s mouth and resists the urge to get rid of it for him, instead he silently hands him a napkin and turns back to the pool.

Moments later Stevie and Twyla have taken their spot on the edge of the 10 meter diving board and David, very innocently, reaches over to grip Patrick's thigh in anticipation. 

He can see from the corner of his eye he hasn't fooled Patrick, but they were both enjoying any bit of contact at this point, so neither one of them dared to say anything.

The crowd around them are suddenly on their feet and if it wasn't for the replay that quickly follows the dive, he'd be ashamed of himself for missing their next to last dive. 

"Very solid entry," Patrick says quietly, his eyes trained on the television as well. 

"Ripped it," David agrees, his eyes now back on Patrick, his large round eyes reflecting the scores now running across the screen. 

"They've got it in the bag, David. Looks like Team Canada will have several synchro qualifiers this year." 

"Several? Are you… counting us?"

Patrick looks over at him and rolls his eyes, "Of course I am David. At any point have I given you any reason to doubt my faith in us?"

David's lips immediately pull to the corner of his face, hiding a smile. Patrick is right, he has enough faith in their diving and personal relationship for the both of them it seems. 

David's fingers run up Patrick's hand and slip beneath the cuff of his warm-up jacket, looking to the rest of the world to simply be holding onto Patrick's sleeve. 

Patrick grins at David full on, looking rather pleased with himself. 

"If Stevie gets lucky tonight, she owes me a pizza. Wanna share it?"

"Yeah, okay David."

And at that David trains his eyes back on the pool, determined not to let the very hot guy next to him take anymore of his focus. 

He doesn't want to think about the fact that he also owes Stevie a pizza. 

David's eyes find the two, once again huddling together under the 5 meter platform. 

He chuckles softly as Stevie's hand runs along Twyla's arm in what he is sure is an attempt at dissuading some nerves. 

"Okay, I see it."

"I told you!"

"What's taken them so long?"

"I think the same could be said for us." 

And apparently David is completely incapable of ignoring what transpired in the shower, not that he really wants to ignore it. He just needs to make it through this competition with a clear head. 

He's hoping he'd made that clear to Patrick, otherwise he might kill him from the whiplash of signals he's giving off.

David wants him. Not just– not just the way he's wanted literally every other person he's been involved with. He wants Patrick, all of Patrick. 

He wonders, idly, what life with Patrick as his boyfriend would be like. 

He imagines the pool flirtation they have back home but more handsy and more lips pressed together. 

He thinks about Patrick making him breakfast in the morning after they both crawl out of bed way past 10 am. Though, he's willing to bet there are few circumstances that would keep Patrick in bed that late… he just hopes he's one of those things.

He imagines Patrick sitting across from him at his parents ridiculously long dining table, and yeah, that one is a bit frightening. Not enough to turn him off of the idea though. He has a feeling Patrick could charm even his mother.

God Alexis will love him.

David thinks maybe he'll love him too. 

He shakes himself back to reality with that sobering thought and finds Stevie and Twyla ascending the ladder to the top platform. 

"They've got this right? They've got this."

"They're solidly in second and there's only 4 divers to follow them. They've got this," Patrick says even as he shakes David's fingers from the inside of his sleeve so he can lace their fingers together, his warm palm pressed against David's cold one. 

When David looks over at him and quirks an eyebrow. Patrick simply shrugs and grins innocently before pulling them to their feet as the rest of team Canada does the same. 

David holds his breath as his friends launch themselves off the platform and fall down in a series of complicated twists and flips.

"Oh my God!" David exclaims, his hand pulling from Patrick's grip as both his fists pump into the air upon their entry. 

He can feel Patrick jumping up and down beside him, his cheers lost in the sea of screaming voices around them. 

\----------

Once they're finally able to make it down to the deck of the pool, Stevie and Twyla are both dressed in their matching warmups.

"I noticed you seemed to have forgotten your shammy. That's so nice of Stevie to share," David says, not at all trying to hide his knowing smile. 

He watches as Twyla's face flushes bright red, but she still offers him a wide smile, her nose scrunching up in an admittedly very adorable way. What is it with him and Stevie being interested in these decent, good people?

"Yeah well not everyone is a freak like you," Stevie says. Patrick nods wholeheartedly. 

"Tell me about it, I used his shammy one time and he had a melt down."

"You didn't!" Stevie says before gasping dramatically. 

"Yeah, he was very unhappy about it," Patrick grins ear to ear, clearly thrilled to be reunited with his partner in crime. 

David's unfortunately used to them teaming up on him by now. He's lost count now of the number of times they've ganged up on him, one particular instance of his locker room habits is particularly scarring.

"I can only imagine. Tell me, was his face more like a tomato or a raspberry? Both are delightful."

"It was more of a strawberry actually and he–"

"Okay while this is  _ extremely  _ fun for me, let's talk about you ladies. Any plans to celebrate tonight Twyla?" He asks sweetly, and doesn’t miss the quick cut of Stevie’s eyes. 

"Um, I think Stevie said something about a pizza? I love pizza. My cousin owns a pizza shop in our hometown. He named it Mystic Pizza, you know, like the movie and sometimes I'll do palm readings there when I'm home."

"How… sweet. I do love a good Julia vehicle," David says, throwing Stevie a significant side eye at the mention of pizza. 

"Yeah, she… I mean my cousin is very sweet." Twyla says, her eyes darting away from Stevie quickly, pink spreading across her cheeks. 

"Alright well, we'll leave you two ladies to it," Patrick says, elbowing David a bit too hard in the ribs. 

"Yeah, be sure to let me know how that pizza is Stevie… or you know, send me one if it works out well for you," he says backing away, pulling Patrick along by his sleeve. He catches Stevie giving him a subtle middle finger that rivals even Alexis.

"Same goes for you David! I love a good free pizza!" Stevie calls after him. 

David lets go of Patrick’s sleeve once they finally get outside and start making their way back to the hotel.

"So, was it a bet?" Patrick asks softly after a few moments.

"Was what a bet?"

"The pizzas? What did you have to do to lose?"

"Um… kiss you? Well I think you had to make the first move." David says softly as they make their way back to the hotel. “I was pretty positive you weren’t into me.”

Grinning smugly, Patrick rocks back on his heels as they wait for the street lights to change. "Very interested. But, it sounds like you lost too then. So, why not buy your own pizzas?"

"It's the principal of the thing Patrick. If I lost I'd never hear the end of it."

"Will you let her if she loses?"

"Of course not."

"So if you both lose then what's the problem?" 

David rolls his eyes dramatically and bumps his shoulder into Patrick's. "Alright, I'll text her later… maybe. After she confesses first."

\----------

David is barely out of the shower when he gets a call that he’s got a delivery in the lobby. He grins at Patrick before slipping his Uggs on and rushing out of the room.

He spies Stevie as soon as the elevator doors open into the lobby, the pizza guy apparently arriving with their orders at the same time. The kid can't be over the age of 16 and from the look on his face is very confused and slightly nervous. 

No telling what he's seen delivering pizzas to hotels.

"Mr. Rose, I have a pizza here for you from Miss Budd? And uh… Miss Budd, I have a pizza here for you from well, from Mr. Rose?" The kid stumbles out and shoves their pizzas at them respectively. 

"Well, well well…" Stevie says once she's got a warm pizza in her hands and the very confused delivery boy has left with his tip. 

"Oh shut up Stevie, and go eat your pizza," he answers defensively. He really wasn’t expecting to have to  _ see  _ her get the pizza. He could have handled the harassment by text message, and by handle he means ignore. He can’t ignore her dark eyes that can read every secret he’s ever had.

"What happened?"

"Um, maybe we made out? In the shower… yesterday?" he mumbles.

Stevie rams her pizza box into David's, a smug grin on her face. "Shut up! I  _ knew  _ it! I told you he liked you! So… how was it?"

"It was everything. But, I'm making us wait til we get home, to move any further… to talk about it. So…” He says, moving to make his way back to the elevators.

"What? Why?" Stevie exclaims, quickly moving to stand in his path, ramming him with her pizza again, but in a much more aggressive manner. 

"Because some stuff went down with Sebastian yesterday and the competition… I just want to make sure my head is clear? I don't want to fuck this up." 

Maybe if he says it one more time, it won’t sound so pathetic. 

"David, you've got to stop letting Sebastian Raine dictate your life, you let him do it for years… it's time to stop." Her eyes are soft now, and he hates when her eyes get soft.

"No, I–I know that," he responds softly, shifting the pizza box in his hands nervously. "I just, this thing with Patrick… it could destroy me."

"You're right, it could."

David jerks his head up to look at her. He can't believe she's agreeing with him.

"But it could also be the best thing you've ever done for yourself."

He sighs because he knows she's right, about the Sebastian part anyway. He hates sincere Stevie. She's never wrong when she's sincere. He is determined to make it through the rest of this competition without being any more distracted by his partner than he already is.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a very hot girl waiting for me and this pizza in my room right now…" she says, tossing a smirk over her shoulder at David as she takes off towards the bank of elevators.

"Oh my God Stevie… We can take the elevator together. You need to tell me what happened with the two of you!"

\----------

"I see you got a pizza? Was it free?" Patrick asks as David let's himself back into their hotel room. 

He can't believe he's successfully shared this room with Patrick and managed to not jump his bones after their steamy kiss. 

Well, he can believe it, it's his own stupid rule and the feeling of doom in the pit of his stomach has been enough to keep him on track. 

He's never experienced this mix of emotions before. Absolute dread about their relationship should things go wrong and complete exhilaration at the chance of getting to kiss Patrick again. 

He toes his black Uggs off by his bed before tip toeing the short distance over to Patrick's.

"I mean, I also sent her a pizza with 3 more toppings than this one has but I'm not counting. It also cost me a lot… dignity wise so,” he says, sliding the pizza onto Patrick's bed and crawling in after it. 

"You're such a good friend David."

David peers up at Patrick skeptically as he stuffs a makeshift napkin bib into the front of his pajama shirt. He finds Patrick's face sufficiently ardent. "Yeah well, it's easy when you only have one."

"I think you've got at least two now."

"You don't count."

"I was talking about Twyla," he says slyly, picking up a piece of pizza from the box and tapping it against David's before folding it in half and taking a huge bite.

"No, you weren't. And we are friends, but it's different."

"Because you want to kiss me," he said around a mouth full of pizza.

"Not with that sloppy mouth."

"Please, my mouth tasting like pizza is such a turn on for you."

"Mmmkay. We've got to talk about something other than your mouth and what it tastes like," David says, absentmindedly picking at Patrick's blanket with his free hand. 

"Okay, but your mouth tasting like pizza is a turn on for me." 

"Oh _my God,"_ David murmurs, his eyes rolling dramatically, his pizza free hand moving to throw a pillow across the short expanse of the double bed hitting Patrick upside his head.

"When we get home I'm taking you to Joe's, stuffing you full of pizza and then I'm going to take you ap–" 

David clasps his hand over Patrick's mouth, dropping his piece of pizza back into the box for safe keeping as he laughs heartily.

The thought of Patrick taking David apart isn't funny, it's thrilling. The fact he's in a bed eating pizza and knows Patrick's not going to take him apart tonight, it's making him feel light and bubbly because at this point, they both know it’s only a matter of time.

It’ll be one hell of a way to celebrate making it to Trials.

He removes his hand from Patrick's mouth and daintily picks his piece of pizza back up. "We'll see about that Brewer."

\----------

Over the next few days they both perform well in their individual meets. Patrick takes first in the men's 3 meter and David second in the men's 10 meter.

Patrick's got a killer forward four and a half tuck and David's armstands have always been strong. 

David is especially elated because he beats Sebastian by several places. 

He also likes the hug Patrick wraps him in after the medal ceremony.

He likes the dinner Patrick buys him that night to celebrate even better.

By the time the final round of men's synchro rolls around David is feeling the most confident he ever has going into a meet. 

_ "Don't fuck this up," Sebastian said over his shoulder as they made their way back to the boards. _

_ "Um, yeah? I thought that was what I was supposed to do." _

_ "I just don't need you choking like you did in the prelims, it's a fucking miracle we made it to the semi finals." _

_ David rolls his eyes. He didn't choke, he performed their fourth round dive to a T. Sebastian had fumbled his hurdle, but he never took the blame. _

_ And David rarely made him. _

_ "Okay, maybe watch your hurdle then." _

_ Apparently today wasn't one of those days. _

_ Sebastian's gaze cut sharply over to David, his body turning around to face him in an instant. "Excuse me?" _

_ "You heard me Sebastian. You fumbled your hurdle." _

_ "You're mistaken." _

_ "Am I? I'm sure any commentator with an ounce of common sense would call you on it in a heartbeat."  _

_ The look of pure disgust on Sebastian's face was enough to tell David he'd hit the nail on the head. The conversation in the hotel room tonight wasn't going to be pretty.  _

By the time the last dive rolls around they are sitting relatively comfortably atop the leaderboard, enough so that if they didn't bomb this next dive there was no way they won't place.

After Nationals, David's much more comfortable with the reverse two and a half with one and a half twists that nearly ended his career, but his stomach is still relentlessly uneasy about it. 

Maybe he'll never shake it really, the fear of the inevitability that one day he'll end his career for the last time. 

He trusts Patrick though, and he's getting a hell of a lot better at trusting himself. 

Patrick counts them down and the dive goes off without a hitch, he just knows it does.

As soon as David surfaces he's overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cheers, the sound deafening within the natatorium. 

And then Patrick's body collides with his in the water, his strong arms wrapping around David's body until they have to swim toward the edge of the pool.

Once they're both out of the water Patrick's arms once again wrap around David, screaming about how they've done it. How  _ David _ has done it. 

And then, they're kissing again. Well, David is being kissed. Wait, Patrick's kissing David. On the pool deck, in front of literally everyone they know.

David should be livid but he's just ecstatic. His body is trembling with the excitement of their win and because he's got Patrick's lips pressed against his again.

It takes him far too long for these thoughts to run through his brain. He feels Patrick's shoulder's sag and begin to pull away and David can't stand for that so he wraps his arms around Patrick's back and hauls him even closer. 

He knows this will more than likely be a PR nightmare and as soon as he gets home, or maybe even before he leaves the locker room this evening, he'll be getting an earful from his mother. 

He also knows this is going directly against the rules he put in place only a few days ago, but the elation of the score that was bound to follow that dive and the feeling of Patrick's warm and wet body wrapped around his is enough to let him know he doesn't care.

Patrick isn't Sebastian, he knows that. He's always known that. Patrick is nice and maybe, just maybe David deserves nice. 

So he lets the kiss last only a few more seconds before pulling away, the roar, and catcalls, still filling the natatorium.

Patrick beams up at him while somehow still looking a bit shy, clearly having been caught up in the moment as much as he'd been.

"We did it," David repeats back. 

He isn't sure whether or not he was talking about the dive or the kiss but if he wagered a guess, it's probably both. 

Out of the corner of his eye he can see the small camera crew waiting for them off to the side and what looks like Jocelyn and Ronnie keeping them at bay while they have their moment.

That was their final dive and he's sure after that little display of affection they're going to want a tell-all. 

After throwing on their warm-ups David laces his left hand with Patrick's right and they make their way over together. 

The entire time they stand in front of the camera, fumbling their way through questions about their relationship and thankfully some about their actual performance, Patrick runs his thumb along David’s knuckles, doing nothing to calm the heat that has settled low in David's stomach after that last kiss. 

So by the time they make it back to the locker room his nerves are aflame.

The door to the locker room is hardly closed before they’re on each other again, more frenzied and eager than before. David backs him into the lockers with a soft clang, drawing Patrick’s lower lip between his teeth. 

Patrick’s hands on his waist, over the slick material of his warm ups, tighten their grip and pull him in.

He lets his tongue flick out and Patrick’s hands scrabble for somewhere else to touch. David finds them, laces their fingers, hums into Patrick’s mouth which earns a matched response. 

David has to smile, has to grin against Patrick’s lips because he just can’t stand it anymore. He’s back. He’s better than ever in so many ways, and Patrick’s to thank, and they’re here doing _this right up against the lockers_ like teenagers and they’re going to the Olympic Trials and Patrick has just kissed him on worldwide television.

A laugh breaks from him. A bright, happy sound he forgot he could even make. He leans away, because it comes again and it’s probably totally inappropriate to break into a full on laughing fit while kissing. But Patrick’s laughing too, and their fingers are still twined. Patrick gives a squeeze.

“We did it!” he exclaims, and raises their joined hands between them. “We did it; David.”

He’s throwing his head back to laugh up at the ceiling, too full of glee to do anything else but nod and lets Patrick go for the briefest of seconds so he can throw his arms around him and crush him close.

Patrick lets out a soft little laugh against his shoulder, David can feel his grin.

They sway there for a moment or two. Finally, David can collect himself, but when he speaks, it kind of just starts all over again.

“I can’t believe it,” he says and squeezes Patrick tight.

"I can, I always knew we'd end up here. Together," Patrick mumbles his mouth moving up to rest against his cheek.

David's chest felt tight but in such a starkly different way, almost like it was  _ too  _ full. The amount of affection and excitement that's running through his body feels like it's enough to split him wide open. 

"I'm sorry I– that I doubted you, doubted us," he speaks softly, a hand moving to cradle Patrick's face against his own.

"And I'm sorry I ignored your wishes and kissed you on national television, though to be fair the sports channel this airs on probably doesn't get a lot of foot traffic."

"But two men that probably just solidified their trip to the Olympic Trials that decided to celebrate by making out poolside will be shared on every news network and Facebook page within the next few hours."

"Oh. Fuck."

"Regrets?"

"Never."

"Me either," David says with a grin, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Patrick's. 

He's so blissfully happy that he's not sure he'll ever stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A stout was had while editing this chapter so I feel like that counts. I've worked on getting it ready all day so I hope you all enjoy it!


	7. happy second chance or happy ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically some fluff with a sprinkle of smut?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as always but extras to sammmb & TINN for the spicy suggestions... and to returntosaturn for telling me this chapter was good 18 times.

"So…" David says sof tly, unbuckling his seat belt and running his palms nervously against the rough denim of his jeans. 

He turns his head to look over at Patrick. He looks beautiful with the early afternoon streaming around him, his hair still mused from the plane. 

David's been driving himself crazy since their kiss, kisses… heavy makeouts at Worlds. That night in the hotel room had been… it had been really  _ nice _ , which wasn’t a word David would have ever used to describe kissing, some heavy petting, and cuddling. 

They just, still hadn’t really  _ talked _ . Their mouths and hands had been a little preoccupied with finally touching the expanse of skin that’s always there to look at but hasn’t been on the table to touch.

David isn’t accustomed to taking his time, savoring and enjoying just existing with someone. Not until Patrick, he feels like that’s all their relationship has been leading up to. Enjoying each other in whatever it is they do. It feels new and special and so, so nice. 

The morning after, they were squeezed next to each other in tiny economy airplane seats. 

David normally flew at least business class but if he gave Ronnie his seat in exchange for a spot next to Patrick for the hour and sixteen minute flight, well that was his prerogative. Patrick’s the type of person that drops off to sleep before the plane even makes it down the runway so while Patrick’s head nestled into David’s shoulder was nice, it still wasn’t talking.

Now, sitting in front of his apartment building with the imminent reality of leaving Patrick's side for the first time in days, was not something he was looking forward to. 

"So?" Patrick says, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

"I don't know where to start." 

And he doesn't. He knows what he wants but his heart is still hesitant even if his brain is screaming to dive in head first. Which, he doesn't appreciate his brain making dive puns. 

"Yes, because you wanted to wait until we got home to talk about this. We're home." Patrick whispers, and those words coming out of anyone else's mouth would have sounded irritated, impatient… out of Patrick's they just sound like a fact. A reminder that he too, wanted to talk.

"Our luggage is still in the trunk of your car. We're sitting in the parking lot of my apartment building, fresh off the plane."

"So, would you rather wait until tomorrow because frankly David, I'd like to kiss you goodbye when you go inside and I need to know if–"

"We’ve done plenty of kissing without the talking part so I don;t see why that would stop you." David says, cutting him off.

Patrick grins smugly from the driver's seat. "So, we're an item then?" he pushes.

"We're not using the term item. I'm not Jennifer Aniston in the mid 90s,” his hands moving to cover his eyes as if to shield himself from the ridiculousness that is Patrick Brewer. 

"So we're boyf–"

"We're… Dating." David states with a nod of his head, signifying his final answer.

He can wrap his head around dating. Dating is easy, relationships seem to be when he fucks everything up. Maybe if he doesn’t label it, it’ll last. Dating sounds casual, fun… even if the word casual doesn’t sound like enough to describe what he wants with Patrick.

Everything, all consuming, that sounds like what he wants.

"Dating?"

"Yes?" He says, gesturing helplessly with his arms.

"Doesn't that normally imply us having been on a date?" Patrick asks, and he’s got a point. David’s had more outings with Patrick than he has with plenty of the people he’s dated in the past but none of them were classified as actual dates.

"So would you... rather not be dating then?" David asks, though he knows the answer. 

"No!" Patrick exclaims, one of his hands moving to grip David’s knee.

David beams so hard his eyes nearly squeeze close."Then quit complaining and kiss me."

Patrick leans forward, unbuckling his seat belt right before it restricts his reach, clearly leaning in for a kiss, but centimeters from David's lips he pulls back and smirks.

"I think I'd like to take you on a date first."

"Right now?" David asks, incredulous.

David desperately needs to shower the airplane germs off his body and apply a least three under eye masks.

Several serums, masks, oils. As many as he can find.

"Well no David, as you've pointed out we just got off a plane and your luggage is still in the trunk of my car. How about lunch tomorrow?"

David's lips pull up into a small shy smile. "Lunch? For a first date?"

"Honestly, I just don't want to wait until dinner to see you." Patrick answers bashfully, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks, evident even in bright sunlight.

David doesn't want to wait either. His skin is crawling at the idea of not seeing Patrick for hours. 

"Well, you could come up?" He asks, even though he knows it's not the best idea. Again, he needs to shower but maybe he could talk Patrick into a more explicit version of the shower they'd taken together just a few days ago.

"No, I think that should probably wait until we're dating."

"But I just said–"

"No, it's okay David. You’re right. We should go on a date before we say we're dating."

David huffs and he can see Patrick’s shoulder shaking with silent laughter. 

"So, no goodbye kiss?" He asks, leaning in, his bottom lip sticking out just enough for Patrick to get the message without David feeling like he’s completely lost all his dignity for begging for the simplest of kisses. 

"I think you're just going to have to wait. I'll pick you up at 6?" Patrick says, an inch from David's lips, though he does graze his lips across David’s cheek and gives his knee a squeeze before pulling back completely. 

"Oh, so we're going with dinner then?"

"I don't know David, you made lunch sound offensive!"

"Lunch is where you take people you're not sure about. Lunch is a very defined amount of time. You can't run over because you have other places to be, other people to see–"

"Oh, well then lunch it is," Patrick says, barely suppressing his grin.

"You're the–"

"Worst, yes I know. So, 6 then?" 

David crosses his arms and leans back to glare at Patrick before finally answering, "make it 7. I'm not an old lady."

"Okay, David," Patrick says, rolling his eyes.

David leans across the console and presses a kiss to Patrick’s cheek before moving to get out of the car and grab his bags.

\----------

Patrick knocks on David's door as soon as the clock strikes 7, not that David was watching the second hand of the clock in his kitchen.

David's been readying himself for hours. Every hair in it's assigned spot, his sweater laying perfectly across his shoulders, his favorite Tom Ford shoes perfectly clean and the shoelaces neatly tied.

He changed five times easily, every outfit following the first one he’d donned not being quite right so he ended up with his first pick.

He is in his favorite white lightning bolt sweater and his tightest black jeans. He feels confident and strong in his signature monochromatic wardrobe but his sweater tonight still makes him feel sufficiently soft. 

Of course, after he’d tried them on the first time before settling on that outfit, he felt the need to iron the clothes, even though they’d come from dry cleaning bags before he’d tried them on the first time. 

He needs everything to be perfect.

Once he puts his t-shirt, sweater, and jeans on for the last time he moves to his feet. He knows which shoes go best with this outfit so that’s not the problem, but the shoelaces… they’re the problem. He wraps them around once and then ties them, then unties and unwraps and just ties but then the loops are too long.

He’s so nervous and he feels absolutely foolish about it. Patrick’s told him he’s in it, why can’t he just accept that? 

As he makes his way to the door he tries to talk himself down, feeling far too keyed up for a first date. He gives his limbs a shake like he does when he’s on a board and it helps, but only a bit. 

He just, really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

The thing is, David's not sure the last time he went on a first date like this. With someone he already likes, someone he's not already had sex with. Or a date that’s not even entirely sure will end with sex.

He takes a steadying breath and runs his palms along his thighs anxiously. "Hi," he breathes as he opens the door to reveal a blazer wearing Patrick on the other side. 

"Hey."

"Is that your press blazer?" He asks, his head tilting to the side in amusement and his lips pulling up and to the side in a small smile.

"Maybe? I just didn't know the dinner jacket policy of the place we're going." 

David squints at him, leaving his head tilted to the side. "Oh, should I change?"

"No! You look-David you’re beautiful. I um… wanted to look nice, for you? Just, let’s get going, but maybe put these in water first?" He says, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

David wants to make a joke about Patrick being an amateur magician but it all dies on his tongue in favor of a breathy “ _ thanks”. _

He feels like he's melted but he's walking into the kitchen and pulling down his favorite Waterford crystal vase, so surely he's not turned to liquid. 

Patrick brought him flowers. Patrick who is wearing a blazer and taking him to dinner and who kissed him on television just a few days ago.

When they get to the restaurant David realizes Patrick's dinner jacket comment had been much like everything that came out of Patrick's mouth, a tease. 

David isn't one to judge a hole-in-the-wall, but the table is very sticky.

"So, dinner jacket huh?"

"I didn't want to have to borrow one of theirs. My shoulders are pretty broad, I would have looked ridiculous."

David does his best to hide his smile behind his menu but he can tell from the way Patrick is looking at his eyes that they're betraying him. 

"You look ridiculous wearing a blazer in this establishment."

"Well, I'm taking this guy out on a first date and I wanted to make a good impression."

"That ship sailed months ago."

"Alright David, tell me, mozzarella sticks or fried pickles?"

David lowers his menu and grins full on, his dimples popping. "Both."

Patrick orders both, and a beer for himself and a glass of wine for David.

David forgets how gross the table top is as the waitress brings out delicious dish after delicious dish. 

He forgets how delicious the food is when Patrick takes his hand across the table. 

"I'm glad we're finally doing this David."

"Me too. I–I don't think I've ever done this. Not really."

"You mean Sebastian never took you out?"

David laughs bitterly, "oh he took me out. To clubs, dive bars, foam raves housed in underground bunkers. Not to small family run diners."

"His loss, you look really good against that vinyl booth."

"Oh my God, you're the worst."

Patrick's laugh fills the restaurant and makes David's heart skip a beat. "I know," he says simply, his thumb running across David's knuckles. 

After dinner and dessert Patrick walks him to his front door, stopping just outside as David puts his key in the lock.

"Do you want to come in?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh." 

David's blood runs cold. He thought they'd had a nice time. Patrick had held his hand at the table, on the walk back to the car, over the center console. 

He can handle this though, he's sure of it. It's better to get the rejection over with now right? Before he's in too deep. 

He's already in too deep.

Patrick had probably had a nice time but now, confronted with the possibility of something more intimate, he's backing out. He’d assumed after Patricks shower confession and the very public display of affection rejection, though feared, wouldn’t happen so quickly.

_ That's fine _ . David thinks. He's had it happen before. Johnny Weir left him at a bar with the bill while he climbed out the bathroom window.

David turns around slowly to face Patrick.

"David no! It's that I'm–" Patrick reaches up and cups David's face. "I know you've been through a lot but, I'm in this. I like you, a lot. Too much. I need to, I want to take this slow okay? But I want you, I want this more than… more than I've ever wanted anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes." Patrick says without hesitation, his face earnest and his eyes boring into David's. “I’ve, I probably should’ve said something… earlier? But I’ve never really been with a guy before? I don’t know why I was afraid to tell you but I just-I didn’t want you to think… less of me? Or that you weren't, that you don’t mean a lot to me, because you really  _ really  _ do.”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ That wasn’t what he was expecting. Patrick was always so sure of himself in every situation, the fact David made him nervous was endearing.

"So, we'll go slow?" he asks, placing a steadying hand on Patrick’s waist. 

"If that's okay?"

"Of course it's okay. I've just, never done slow before."

"Then maybe it'll be good for you. Teach you some restraint," Patrick says, the grin on his face clearly teasing.

Does he ever do anything other than smirk? And look endearingly earnest? Are these the only moods Patrick has? David thinks he might be okay with that. 

"I want to make a very um... unslow comment right now but I'm  _ restraining  _ myself. Now, does slow mean no kiss goodnight or–"

But David doesn't get to finish. Patrick crowds him back against his door, the hard plains of his body pressing into David's, his hands settling in David's waist.

Patrick's lips find David's and he can feel all the air rushing out of Patrick's lungs as the force seems to shock them both. 

David drapes his arms over Patrick's shoulders, one hand moving into the short hairs at the nape of Patrick's neck pulling him impossibly closer. 

This kiss doesn't feel slow, it feels filthy. The slow drag of Patrick's tongue against his is all consuming. David whimpers as he feels Patrick's hands trace his waist before one finds its way into the back pocket of his jeans and the other slips under his sweater and t-shirt and runs along the warm skin of his lower back.

Patrick pulls back much too quickly for David's liking and he licks his swollen glistening lips. David thinks Patrick never looks more beautiful than he does after a particularly heavy kissing session. His cheeks are delightfully pink and the shade continues down his throat and disappears underneath his button-up shirt.

"Goodnight David," he breaths, his lips moving in for a final, very chaste kiss.

"Night Patrick."

\----------

Patrick has said on multiple occasions, well maybe just once, that he wants to go slow and that was weeks ago. Their training schedule keeps them busy and they’ve been on plenty of dates and have definitely fooled around in the back of Patrick’s care, but they’ve really been taking it pretty slow. 

David wants to respect Patrick’s boundaries and if he’s honest, waiting has led to some pretty spectacular make out sessions.

The way Patrick's currently sucking on David's lower lip doesn't feel like he wants to go slow. David can feel his lip pulsing from the amount of time Patrick's been sucking and nibbling at it, it's throbbing matching that of his dick.

The drag of Patrick's hard length against David's thigh really doesn't feel like he wants to go slow.

This feels like the opposite of slow, it feels hot, magnificent. He needs this sweater off. 

Patrick’s weight pressing him into his mattress is comforting even with the tease of Patrick’s occasional hip grinding, like he’s some kind of sexy weighted blanket. They’d made their way in here accidentally, on purpose.

Patrick hadn’t kept his hands to himself all night, all day really. Practice felt like a dance, fingers grazing shoulders, touches during warm ups, longing glances as they’d dressed to leave for the day. Patrick kept his arms wrapped around David’s hips while he unpacked their dinner, the only time Patrick stopped was when the dinning table David sat the food on put a physical barrier between them. Which, now that he thinks about it, he should have seen right through Patrick following him into his bedroom after mentioning something about borrowing a sweater. 

He hadn’t even made it to the closet before Patrick was steering David’s hips towards the bed, spinning him around to face him before nudging him back to lie down.

David's been with too many people to count but it's never felt like this. He feels electric, his nerves aflame from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes. 

" _ Patrick _ ," he breathes, his head tilting back and exposing the column of his neck which Patrick takes immediate advantage of. David says a silent prayer in thanks for the state of his poor bottom lip.

" _ Fuck _ ," he mumbles, his fingers doing their best to catch in Patrick’s short hair. He already misses the little bit of length he’d had just weeks ago.

He hears Patrick grunt in acknowledgment and knows he must be as far gone as he is, if his smartass mouth can't form words.

Patrick's hot tongue traces along his jawline, his teeth worrying a spot just underneath his ear before moving down one side of his throat, his hand caressing the other side, his fingertips ghosting against the sensitive skin.

"This doesn't feel slow," David croaks despite himself.

He doesn't want to stop, he wants to have Patrick's mouth on him until the end of time. He also really wants to find release but he’s grown accustomed to taking care of that himself recently.

It's been weeks of teasing kisses and cold showers and moments alone in his bed. He'll wait months for Patrick but it's frustrating and he knows Patrick feels the same. It's taken longer and longer for Patrick to finally pull away recently.

Patrick's mouth leaves David’s skin slowly, his open mouth dragging up from his throat to his ear, Patrick's ragged breathing filling every inch of space between them. "Fuck slow. We've been going slow for weeks. I want you." 

"Yeah, okay but… Patrick stop, stop for a second." 

David's hand cups Patrick's jaw and pushes him back so they can look at each other. As soon as he sees Patrick's blown pupils and swollen lips he realizes that may not have been his greatest idea.

He looks beautiful, flushed and wrecked. An electric shock runs down his spin and pools in the pit of his stomach. 

David takes a gulp of air and swallows thickly. "I want to make sure you want this. I mean, it's very clear you do physically," he amends when Patrick cheekily bucks into him. 

"David I want this, with every part of me. Body, mind, soul… I'm ready,"

"Okay, you can't just say things like that," David mumbles in response. 

Patrick's chuckles huskily and his lips move back to David's ear, his tongue licking at the freckle he knows is behind his ear. "Then what do you want me to say? You wanted to make sure I was ready, that was me telling you."

"Okay. Okay, but if you feel… if you need to stop, just tell me okay?"

"I will David. Now please kiss me again."

David grins and his hand that's been on Patrick's neck through this exchange moves to pull Patrick's lips back to his, claiming them as his own.

His tongue pushes into Patrick's open and willing mouth, 

"So, was the sweater just an excuse to get me in here?” David asks, his leg hooking with Patrick’s and flipping them over. He presses Patrick down into the mattress and smiles as he sees Patrick’s eyes darken. 

"Yeah, I was hoping that was enough of a hint for you.” he says, his hands moving to the hem of David’s sweater, attempting to pull it off now that David wasnt pressed into the mattress. With just a bit of help Patrick managed to remove it.

“Is that why you’ve been so handsy today Patrick? Were you planning this?” 

David knows he’s grinning smugly down at Patrick but he’s thrilled by the idea of Patrick waiting for this all day, wanting him all day… with intent behind it. David pulls Patrick up long enough to pull his t-shirt off and toss it off to the side where he’d gently laid his sweater. 

“Yes, definitely. Now, please stop talking and show me what else you can do with that mouth."

"Mmm. You may not survive."

"Try me."

\----------

The next morning David wakes and his body is sore in a way that it’s not been in a while, and there's a heavy weight on his chest. He pries one eye open and takes in the sight Patrick's gloriously naked body draped across his. 

_ Oh _ .

His body hums in satisfaction, stretching as little as possible as not to disturb Patrick. Last night had been, it had been a first. Every part of it had been beautiful.

David has always had a healthy sex drive but it has never been beautiful or something he wants to savor, to replay everytime he closes his eyes. 

He's always felt self conscious about his body in bed, but the way Patrick looked at him, touched him, worshiped his body, it gave him a sense of confidence he's never had outside the pool. 

Patrick looks at David like he's a man half starved. And David guesses he is in a way. He wonders if Patrick's ever enjoyed sex or romantic affection. 

Carefully, he runs his fingers through Patrick's short hair, a finger over the shell of his ear and then down his neck, memorizing. 

Patrick had given his body to David in a way no one ever had. It wasn't that they'd done new things, it was the vulnerability they'd shared so freely. 

Watching Patrick fall apart underneath him had been an experience he'd never forget. 

Patrick's eager face as he'd made sure David followed not long after him had been so endearing. His tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as his already spent body flipped David to his back, his hand steady and sure had melted David's hard heart in a way only Patrick has ever managed to do. 

Where did this guy come from? He can't be real right? He's going to wake up from this dream eventually.

Except now Patrick is stirring and bringing him back to reality and reminding him that this is very much his reality. 

David blinks back tears quickly, relief and exhilaration at the mere existence of Patrick too much for him to handle this early in morning.

"Hi," Patrick whispers, his chin digging into David's chest, the pain sharp enough to solidify for David that he was indeed, very much awake. 

"Hi," he answers back.

"I'm surprised you're up before me."

"Yeah well I had a very heavy pressure on my chest this morning, thankfully it was just this really cute guy I've been seeing."

"Oh, did I miss him?"

David rolls his eyes and rolls them over, his hands placed on either side of Patrick's head, holding him up so he can still gaze half asleep down at Patrick.

"Mmm, I don't think so. He's right here."

David chuckles as Patrick looks from side to side as if he's looking for the other guy. 

"Alright, it's far too early for this amount of teasing."

Patrick beams up at him, his head lifting just enough to place a chase kiss to David's still tender lips.

"How do you feel? Any regrets?"

"Are you ever going to stop worrying about me having regrets? Were my two orgasms not enough to convince you of my excitement last night?"

"Excitement in the night doesn't always lend itself to continued excitement the next day."

"Maybe you should try trusting me."

"No, I do trust you Patrick.. You’ve proven it over and over and I-I do, trust you."

If it's possible, Patrick beams even brighter.

David's stomach threatens to drop out of his body at the sight of this man under him smiling like that.

Whatever's currently happening in his chest feels new, but it feels a lot like what he assumes is an emotion he'd rather not name. 

"How do you feel about brunch?" Patrick asks, his hands running up and down David's arms.

"Will there be waffles?" He asks softly. 

"You act like I don't know enough about your eating habits," Patrick says with a laugh, his hands running over David's shoulder and down his back to settle low on his waist.

"Keep moving your hands like that and we'll be in this bed well past lunch."

"I think I could live with that."

"You might be able to but if that turns out to be the case you won't like what you see if I'm denied sustenance for that long."

"Alright, brunch and then round two."

"Would we call it round two or three?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've stressed over this chapter for days and I'm not certain I like it but if you like it lemme know. I just wanted these boys to have some dates, and fluff... ya know?


	8. as if the first cut, wasn't deep enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys have an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same thanks as always but just extra love to my rose buddies and you guys as last night was such a big deal for our community. This show and this community means the world to me and has forever changed my life... so this chapter is for all of you.

They quickly and easily fall into a comfortable routine. David's never had his life meld with anyone's as easily as it does with Patrick's, though he supposes they were already more than halfway there, just missing the affection and mind-blowing sex. He's also not accustomed to someone never getting sick of him. It took several weeks of spending most waking and sleeping moments together before David relaxed into how easy Patrick found him to be around.

The first time Patrick mentioned needing to go home, to his own apartment, David hid his disappointment well. Shrugged it off. Surely space was good in a relationship as new as theirs. Surely Patrick needed some breathing room. When Patrick had waited patiently for David to figure out he was also asking him to come along, well… he was ecstatic. 

They do end up spending most nights at David's even though Patrick has a perfectly nice place. David's happens to be better stocked in supplies for their nightly activities, his bed is much bigger, and it's _just_ a bit closer to the pool than Patrick's, which means they can spend a little more time snuggling in the mornings than they can when they stay at Patrick's. Sometimes Patrick even brings him coffee in bed.

Patrick has got to feel like he's winning some unnamed competition in getting David to the pool earlier than he's ever gotten there. David thinks it's hysterical because while David is earlier, he knows for a fact Patrick is much later than he's ever been in his life.

He doesn't know that he's ever been happier. Patrick makes him so happy and if the permanent smile on Patrick's face is anything to go by he's fairly certain he makes Patrick just as happy, and that makes him even more happy.

He's just really fucking happy.

He didn't know relationships could be like this. Mutual respect and admiration.

He's not ready to admit that's what he's feeling. It can't be love, they've only been officially dating for a few months but he can't imagine life without Patrick anymore, he's not sure how he's made it this far without him.

He still worries sometimes, though it's few and far between. After having never known what stability feels like, now that he has it… he's pretty damn worried it could disappear at any given moment. 

The closer they get to Trials, the higher the dread gets, the more constant. He knows Patrick can feel it, sense it.

David knows it's irrational, but it doesn't feel irrational. He feels too much, too strongly and he can't shake it.

David and Patrick make waves as they continue to be seen together in public. 

David's always had a rather large following on social media but Patrick's nearly doubles and he gains quite a few himself. 

Divers aren't normally this well known, so they've comparatively surpassed Tom Daley status if someone were to ask him.

But he doesn't care about that. All he cares about is the fact he's beside himself he's so happy. Their diving seems to improve the closer they get, like as their bodies learn each other in new ways, their diving becomes even more in sync.

They continue to dominate the competition circuit, doing a few meets between Worlds and the Trials, sweeping the medal ceremonies at every one, so much so that as Trials grow nearer their names are tossed around a lot as Olympic medal contenders. 

\----------

" _I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire."_

David freezes, one foot still in the pool as Tina's voice fills the room.

"Um okay, who picked this song for warm up?" He calls out, looking at the handful of divers milling about.

The pool is sparse today as most people take Sundays off but Patrick was insistent when they woke this morning that they work out a few kinks they'd struggled with yesterday. 

David is still working off the calories from the latest monthly anniversary gift Patrick insists on giving him every month. 

He thinks things are going quite well. Patrick is very enthusiastic about everything and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't just as excited.

They've been together for months now and Patrick is leagues better than anyone he's ever dated before. 

The sex is great, by far the best either of them has ever had but it's more than that. The casual intimacy that comes with dating Patrick is something he's never experienced before. 

He's been surprised to find that _he's_ casually affectionate. If Patrick's within arms reach, David's hands are going to be on him. Whether that's running his fingers across his shoulder blades, lacing their fingers together, running his thumb over his ankle bone as they watch movies on the couch.

"I did." He hears Patrick's voice call from somewhere above him. 

"Why?" He looks up just in time to see Patrick take off the end of the three meter board.

Patrick surfaces with a smirk on his face. "Well David, because you're simply the best."

"Mmm. Okay," David says bending over to grab his shammy. 

"Better than all the rest. Better than anyone I've ever met," Patrick teases as he walks past David and pops him on his ass with his own shammy. 

"Have anything you want to work on specifically?" David says, throwing his shammy at the back of Patrick's head. 

"Like… diving wise or us wise because I'd really like to pick up where we left off last night with you on the couch and me bent over–" Patrick says, the smirk apparently a permanent fixture on his face. He steps over David's shammy and moves towards the hot tub situated under the platforms.

"And we're done with you," David says, cutting him off before following him into the warm water. 

"I was gonna ask you, my mom's been... kind of... begging to meet you. She was once pretty heavily invested in my career, which I think came from her being my coach in a few, uh… Little Mister pageants? I digress, you wouldn't have to come as my boyfriend or not boyfriend, we haven't uh, talked about labels or anything. You know that I have family dinners with them on Tuesdays and if you wanted to come, you could come?" David rushes out, not stopping to breathe, or to even fully submerge himself into the hot tub.

He's still standing on the second step while Patrick comfortably sits on the other side. 

"David, I'd love nothing more than to go to your family dinner as your boyfriend and meet your parents," he responds without hesitation.

"But?"

There had to be a but right? No one would willingly walk into the lion's den that was his parents dining room, right?

"No buts. Well, you could bring _your_ butt over here," Patrick says, the smug look still on his face, his arms spread out along the edge of the hot tub. 

"But you realize that it's Tuesday in like, two days? So, that would mean you'd come with me… then?"

Surely he was going to back out at this point right? This guy wasn't that perfect, no one was that perfect.

"Ooooh, I'll have to check with my boyfriend and see if I'm free."

" _Okay,"_ David snaps playfully. His smile easily gives him away as does the fact he is now moving to straddle Patrick's lap, his arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “My boyfriend is insufferable.”

David lets one hand settle across Patrick's shoulders as the other one strayed into the wet curls at the nape of his neck.

"So, you're my boyfriend now?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I knew you'd get all cocky about it," David says, running his nose along Patrick's jaw. 

"Is Joce coming in today?"

"Um… two questions. When did you start calling Jocelyn ' _Joce_ ' and why?"

"Because I really want to makeout with my boyfriend right now I don't want to be interrupted."

As if on cue the door to the natatorium squeaks open and a very petite redhead enters. 

"I'm sorry, the pool is closed to the public," David calls from his place on Patrick's lap. 

When he turns to look back at Patrick he notices his eyes are locked on the intruder and his face is red in a way that definitely doesn't have to do with David's presence in his lap. Patrick stands up quickly, causing David to slide into the hot tub, his ears dipping below the surface of the hot water which is _very_ incorrect. 

"Um Patrick," he says as Patrick whispers "Rachel."

"Okay… Who the fuck is Rachel?" David whispers more to himself because Patrick is already out of the hot tub and making his way towards the girl, his steps long and even. 

"What are you doing here?" Patrick asks loud enough that it bounces around the room.

David moves just close enough to hear, needing to understand what could set his boyfriend on edge so fast… it can't be good. 

"I just… I wanted to understand? Why you didn't tell me. Patrick I've been waiting for you to come back and then I see… I need answers." 

Rachel's eyes move to David, seeming to take in his presence, all the ways he differs from her. Her eyes aren't angry, they're confused and sorrowful…Which somehow makes David's stomach lurch uncomfortably. 

"Rachel… I can explain."

"So you can explain why you left your fiancée and ended up with a man?"

"Fiancée?" David whispers.

David's heart clenches and then he's pretty sure it stops. He has the sudden urge to check his pulse. Maybe he can flag down someone, anyone to make sure he's still alive. 

His eyes pan the pool deck trying to locate anyone other than Patrick and the redhead currently calling herself Patrick's fiancée. 

_Fiancée._

How can Patrick have a fiance and not have told him? How can he have a fiancée and kiss him the way he's been kissing him.

_He kissed him in front of a camera crew on the deck of a pool and he was… engaged?_

He needs to get out of here. He chances a glance at Patrick and can see his shoulders slowly moving up to frame his ears the way they always do when he is uncomfortable… or when he's trying to be exceptionally quiet while David kneels down in front of him and– and he needs to _get out._

He takes a few uncoordinated steps backwards before turning to reach for his shammy and then his water bottle, time seeming to move as slowly as he can feel his heart beating. 

He is vaguely aware of the tears sliding down his cheeks and he is livid _._ Angry at his body for reacting against his wishes. 

He doesn't want to cry, he doesn't want his heart to feel like it's shattering but apparently he's no longer in control.

"David!" He hears somewhere behind him, Patrick's frantic voice and even more frantic footsteps following behind him.

"Don't move, we need to talk," he hears Patrick bite out and wasn't sure if he's talking to him or Rachel but it doesn't matter. His body is moving him toward the locker room to gather the rest of his things. To maybe clear his locker out because he is fucking _done._

These cute boys in Speedos will be the death of him. This one may very nearly put him into an early grave. 

Maybe he _is_ in love Patrick. Is this why his chest feels like it was a livewire? Why his brain is so jumbled and completely offline at the same time? 

He shuffles down the hallway and can hear Patrick hot on his heels but he doesn't have the energy to turn around and tell him to back off.

Maybe he even wants to hear what Patrick has to say… maybe it's a misunderstanding? Maybe she has the wrong Patrick, that could be possible right? Maybe she's crazy?

The look on Patrick's face when she entered the pool tells him that wasn't true. He looked horrified at the sight of her, at getting caught.

"David, _please_ stop."

He doesn't. 

"Please, I need to explain a couple of things?" Patrick says, desperately. He can hear the desperation, he can feel it radiating off Patrick in waves, like he feels as heartbroken as David does.

"Mmm, what would be the main one do you think?" He bites, coming to a stop in front of his locker and pulling harshly at the door.

He continues to stand in front of his locker wondering how the hell to open it. Was it 35-14-27 or 14-35-27? 

"David, I'm sorry. I didn't know she'd just show up here."

"Is that what you think the problem is? That she showed up here? Or is that what your problem is? Your secret fiancée meeting your now not so secret boyfriend. I'm sure the viral video from Worlds was a rude awakening for her. Maybe she and I should go out for a drink, I'm sure we've now got quite a bit in common."

"You were never a secret. She wasn't a secret. We were engaged but it was over before we ever became partners," Patrick says, his voice pleading, begging David to understand.

David wants to understand but everything in him is telling him to flee. 

"And you didn't think I deserved to know you were still stringing along a cute little redhead?" He says pulling harshly at the lock on his locker again, the two previous combinations not working. 

He feels Patrick nudge him out of the way and watches as he enters 54-37-15. David has been entering Patrick's locker combination and he feels like crying at the irony of it all.

He was pretty sure he's still crying though, he's not sure and he's certain he doesn't want to find out.

"David, I broke it off so long ago. Weeks before we first met. I broke it off when I realized the reason it never worked with her is because I'm gay. Nothing ever felt right with her. I didn't feel right but… you make me feel right David." 

"Funny you'd treat someone that makes you feel right the way you've–" but he broke off, finally giving in and wiping at his cheeks, nudging Patrick out of the way to pull his things out of his locker.

"She's been texting me since World's… it's always what worked in the past but I've not responded, I thought she'd eventually give up."

David can't look at Patrick but if he could he's sure his gaze would cut him to the quick. He's been hiding this… the whole time. 

"She's been texting you and you didn't think I deserved to know? Patrick you told me to _trust_ you! With my career and my heart and I did and you just neglected to tell me about this? You knew my hang ups, yet you said _nothing._ "

The last thing David wants to do is scream about how he's trusted Patrick like he's in some kind of romantic comedy. When Julia Styles finds out a bet was made, or when Matthew McConaughey finds out Sarah Jessica Parker is being paid by his parents, or in a different movie when he finds out that Kate Hudson has been writing an article about their dating life… though he was also wrong in that last one, but that’s beside the point. 

The point is, right now, in the midst of this betrayal… he can’t see them coming out the other side. This isn’t a movie, who’s to say real life works like that? That’s not been his experience thus far. 

What life has shown David so far is that everything ends and everyone lies and everything hurts, and maybe he should’ve remembered that before getting in over his head with Patrick Brewer.

"David, I know, I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you, to explain it to her, but I didn't know how. We've been on and off since high school and I never understood… but David I meant what I said, you make me feel so right. I don't want anyone else but you." 

David roughly pulls on his joggers before finally turning around. Patrick’s face nearly breaks his resolve. He looks as broken as David feels and it’s not fair. Why is he fighting this? Why can’t he just let it go like everyone else has always done? No one has ever fought for David.

"That's possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, outside of that one time Tyra Banks told me I had an ass fit for modeling…" he says, grasping for something to say other than telling Patrick this is over. 

He doesn't want this to be over, but right now he can't feel anything other than the depths of fucking despair.

"Well, it's the truth David,” Patrick offers softly.

David wants to ask if he means what Tyra said about his ass, but he doesn't. He goes for the truth, his truth. He feels an indescribable need to explain himself to Patrick, why this hurts the way it does.

"Okay, but my truth is I'm damaged goods. I told you that, I made it clear why I am the way I am... yet you decided to keep this from me. I–I don't think sorry is going to cut it. I just, I need to think Patrick, and I can't do that with you here."

David blinks back his tears and watches as Patrick's face falls into a look of utter defeat. If his heart wasn't already shattered, it sure as hell is now. 

He hears Patrick whisper, "alright," but he doesn't see him leave, he can't see much of anything through the tears he finally stops fighting.

\-----------

The stillness of his apartment when he arrives home is almost as jarring as the sudden appearance of a jilted fianceé. Patrick has made his apartment so much brighter, his life so much brighter. 

He goes through his routine of emptying his gym bag, hanging up his speedo and throwing the towel in his laundry room. Patrick's towel and speedo from yesterday are still hanging up in their designated spot. He draws a shaky breath and closes the door behind him.

What is he supposed to do now? Eat? He's not hungry for the first time in his life. He feels empty, but it's not his stomach clenching painfully.

He changes into a fresh pair of joggers and the biggest, fluffiest sweater he can find in his closet, his clothes soaked through with chlorine from hastily throwing them on in the locker room without properly drying his skin off first.

His mind doesn't feel right, like it's disconnected, gone completely offline. Maybe he's in shock? It does feel a bit like it did after the incident but instead of a blown knee, he's got a broken heart.

He should've known. He did know… not to go down this road, but he'd done it anyway. The only person he can really be mad at is himself, right?

Except he wants to be mad at Patrick. He wants to scream and throw a fit like he did before he'd gotten his life together. Before trials and therapy and… Patrick. 

Instead he pours himself a healthy glass of wine and then pours himself into the couch.

He'll have to text Jocelyn and tell her he's sick, or the truth, or something so when he doesn't show up at the pool tomorrow morning she doesn't show up and try to drag him out of bed.

He's going to have to call his mother about Tuesday night dinner. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, the background nearly causes another wave of tears. It’s a picture of him and Patrick from just a few weeks ago snuggled together on the couch he’s currently sitting on.

He puts his phone on do not disturb before dialing his mother. 

“Ah, David! If it’s not my favorite first born!” His mother’s voice breaks the stark silence of his apartment. 

“You can only have one first born mother,” he mumbles, pulling his legs up to his chest and the sleeves of his sweater down back his finger tips, content with burrowing into himself for the foreseeable future. 

“Tis why you are my favorite! Did you ask your young paramour to join us for dinner?” she asks, her tone clipped as if he’s not truly got her full attention.

David’s heart clenches painfully at his mother’s term of endearment, as archaic as it is, for his partner she’s never met and at this point may never meet. How he wishes they’d not kissed on national television right now. He’d only have to explain that his partner in the pool wouldn’t be joining them for dinner, not well… his partner in all areas of his life. 

“That’s actually why I’m calling?” he rushes out before taking a large gulp of his wine.

“David! Don’t tell me you’ve called it quits since we talked mere days ago!”

He hates how well his mother has always known him so well. It’s always been this way, even when his tone of voice is all she has to go by... She knows. 

“Why do you immediately jump to that conclusion?!”

“Well, the tone of your voice isn’t exactly bursting with new love!”

David rolls his eyes at her predictability. He also sometimes hates how well he knows her.

“It wasn't the last time we talked either,” he objects. He can’t afford to go any further down that road. 

“It most certainly was! What have you done this time?”

“Nothing! I… we… it’s just, something came up and we won’t be able to make it.”

“Well, you could have called earlier! I’ve already ordered enough food for the four of us! I suppose your father and I will just eat the Branzino for the rest of the week and you know how I feel about oddments."

“I’m… I’m sorry mum,” he says and he feels the tears fall but hopes to God she’s not noticed, that he’s not given it away.

“Oh dear, this is severe. I believe I warned you against submerging yourself into this amorous entanglement with another partner David!”

“Yeah well, I should have listened.” He says, though he’s not sure he _really_ believes it. Even as shattered as he is he’s not sure he’d take any of it back. As broken as he is, he thinks he is still a better person than he was before they started this mess. 

God, when did he get so mature? 

“I’ve gotta go.”

“David, you know…” she starts, and pauses to clear her throat. “You know you’re always welcome here, at home.”

“Yeah, I know… thanks.” he whispers and hangs up before his mother can make him feel any worse than she already has. From assuming it’s always his fault to her almost sincere concern, he’s feeling a bit of a whiplash. 

He places his phone on the coffee table and covers himself with the blanket that's draped over the back of the couch. He can give himself some time to mend, can't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one of my favorites, and got written pretty early on in a local brewery one evening after work. I've added a lot of stuff today, probably in the wake of all my feels from last night, but i think it's all the better for it. I hope the changes I've made to this bit of canon make sense for these characters and where they are in this universe. Let me know what you think!


	9. my eyes are open and i'm giving up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David gets some good advice from an unexpected visitor and processes his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely buddies and all you readers to sticking with it!

"David! Open the door David."

He doesn't budge. It's been three days, 6 hours, and twenty five minutes since the Rachel Incident. Patrick has been texting him nonstop. 

He knows in the scheme of things, if Patrick's to be believed, he really wasn't engaged during the entirety of their partnership.

In the texts he's allowed himself to read, Patrick has told him Rachel isn't upset that he's moved on to be _with_ David but was hurt and upset Patrick never told her. 

How was it that she seemed to be just as sweet as Patrick? Where the hell did these people come from?

Then David would think about how Patrick had kept a big part of his past hidden, and what else he could be hiding. The constant wrestling with the truths he knew and the lies he fears is enough to keep anyone bedridden.

David tossed out anecdotes to his dating past like a clown handing out candy, which was _one_ of his anecdotes.

And Patrick had stayed silent.

He knows Patrick called his parents the night after the televised kiss… which should be enough to tell him that Patrick is serious. But he doesn't know what he told them, if he explained the reality of their relationship or just covered his ass.

David pulls the covers up underneath his chin as he lays in the middle of his king-sized sea of monochromatic and overly plush bedding. 

"I've let myself in! If you planned on going completely off the grid you should've gone somewhere you'd not given me a key to! And maybe turn off your Life 360 app?" Stevie shouts and David hears her signature messenger bag and keys drop sloppily on his counter.

He rolls his eyes, he never should have given Stevie access to his coordinates. He only has that damn app so he can keep track of Alexis.

"So, Patrick texted me," she says casually, moving through his apartment at her normal sluggish pace.

"How the hell do you have Patrick's number?" He calls out, though he knows they've formed a friendship over the training season.

"He gave it to me months ago. We text pretty regularly, mostly about you. So when he texted me about what happened and asked if I'd check on you when I've not heard _anything_ from you in days… well, I got a little worried." Stevie says, and from the sound of her voice and the faint smell of melted cheese she is now standing in the doorway of his bedroom. 

Glancing up, he sees her silhouette and what looks like a pizza box in her hands. She really is his favorite person. 

He hears what sounds like the click of heels across his hardwood, but that can't be right, he knows for a fact Stevie doesn't even own a pair of heels.

"I should've texted… I just–I wanted to pretend for a little longer like it wasn't real," he whispers, throwing his arm over his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears already threatening to fall at the comforting presence of his best friend.

The one day Twyla and Stevie hadn't been at the pool was the day everything had fallen to shit. He should be grateful only a handful of people had been to witness the event worthy of an episode of Sunrise Bay. 

He imagines what would have happened if they'd not been at the pool that day. 

Patrick would be in this bed with him and he'd still be blissfully unaware that his partner… his boyfriend, was anything other than perfect. 

He sighs heavily and waits for Stevie to take her normal place next to him on his bed.

"Ew, David… it looks like a witch's house in here,” chirps a voice sounds remarkably like–but it can't be. She wasn't even in the country, he'd looked at her little blinking dot on a map two days ago.

David shoots up in his bed so fast his head spins. "What the actual f–"

"Oh, I brought reinforcements… I know you better than to come empty handed at this point and I had a feeling pizza wasn't going to cut it."

Alexis was already toeing off her signature 6 inch heels and crawling into bed with David before he even fully processed she was there. 

“Well, the pizza doesn’t hurt…” he whispers, his eyes following his sister in disbelief. 

David falls back against his pillows once again, running a hand through his already severely disheveled hair.

Alexis boops him softly on the nose twice before laying down beside him, her body squirming until her entire side is pressed against his. Somehow her familiar physical display of affection causes tears to well in his eyes.

"I think your little button is very sorry David," she says softly. "But I'm like, totally on your side?"

"What do you know about it, you've been gone for months," he grumbles but relaxes as he finds comfort in her warm presence next to him.

"Yeah but like, he seemed so earnest when we talked on the phone earlier," she says, her voice lilting in a way David knows she means to sound nonchalant. She pulls his hand into hers, seemingly to inspect his cuticles, and if her tutting is anything to go by, they didn't look good.

"Why is everyone talking to Patrick? Who's side are you even on?" He asks, his hands flailing enough to release Alexis' grip on him, his face scrunching with the same distaste he has for moths and that very disastrous season Balenciaga had a few years back.

"Yours, you idiot," Stevie says, not removing her shoes before perching on the end of his bed and setting the pizza down between them.

Everything about what was currently happening was very incorrect. 

He's still in shock Alexis is curled up next to him, there's a hot and greasy pizza box on his crisp white duvet, Stevie's 10 year old converse are actively touching his bed, and he’s having to talk about feelings he’s not even fully wrapped his own head around.

"If we're going to eat pizza in my bed, you have to at least remove your shoes. I can't break two rules at once," he says softly, his eyes narrowing so she knows he's not playing. 

Stevie rolls her eyes but kicks her old dirty shoes noisily across the room anyway before tucking her feet under her.

Alexis's fingers flutter against his shoulder, clearly not done talking about this despite David's attempt to bring some levity to the conversation. He _wants_ to wallow, to let this grief swallow him whole because if he doesn't do that then it would feel as if he and Patrick had never… As if Patrick meant nothing. Even in the midst of all this, he knows Patrick was never nothing. 

"Yeah David, we're on your side, I already said that, and um, I think that means pushing you to make up with Patrick. He's such a little doll David."

He rolls his eyes again and glances down at Stevie in an attempt to find some support. What he finds instead of the support he's looking for, is his best friend nodding her head in agreement with his sister. Surely, them being on his side looks more like them all getting _very_ drunk and burning Patrick's little speedo still hanging in his laundry room, right?

"You've never even met him! You can't call him a button and a doll if you've never met him!" He says crossing his arms across his chest, which sadly doesn’t have the same effect as it does when he’s not enveloped in a mass of blankets.

"Well like obviously, but I watched your steamy kiss cam moment and the interview afterwards. I also watched Leslie Jones's little reaction to it on her Instagram. She did a lot of screaming, you should be _very_ flattered,” Alexis says, unwinding his arms and linking the one closest with her own.

David takes a deep breath in and holds it before slowly letting it out, his eyes squeezing shut. He _knows_ they are right. But every survival instinct he's spent his life honing, is screaming at him to keep his walls firmly in place. 

He's terrified. What if he does go back to Patrick and nothing's the same? What if in the end, it still doesn't work?

"Maybe it's best if we just… stay partners," he sniffs.

"Is that what you want?" Stevie asks tentatively, almost as if she can’t believe she’s asking the question.

He takes another deep breath because he knows the answer, but he doesn't want to admit it outloud.

"No, but it's the safest option," he finally says. He doesn’t have the energy to lie or hide or try to feel anything other than what he’s feeling.

"Um David, have you ever thought, like...maybe? The safest option won't be the thing one that like, brings you joy?" Alexis asks, and while the cadence with which she asked the question was odd, he can see her intentions.

David turns his head to look at her, always caught off guard by her wisdom, considering she hardly uses it in her own life, at least until it’s a last resort. She's always been the one he takes care of, when it's the other way around, it is always as surprising as it is mildly heartwarming. 

"Yeah. Sometimes I think I'm okay with that option."

"But you're not really. I can see it in your sad eyes David. You're just scared," she says punctuating her last three words with boops to his nose with her free hand, which he tried in vain to dodge. 

"When the hell did you get to know me so well?"

Alexis picks at the sleeve of his sweater, a pensive look on her face. She shrugs softly and her eyes flick up to meet Stevie’s.

"I think this is my cue. Turns out, the pizza will be on the dining table." Stevie says slipping off the bed and leaving the room, pizza in tow.

"Just because I'm gone sometimes doesn't mean I don't know you, or like, pay attention David," Alexis whispers once Stevie’s fully retreated into his living room.

Stevie can only take so much sincerity so it makes complete sense that she’d escape while she can. He half wishes he could have gone with her. The emotions radiating off of Alexis mixed with the ones he’s already feeling about Patrick feels like too much. These moments with his sister though, are so few and far between he doesn’t _really_ want to miss it.

"I think it does," he says, pulling his arm out of her grasp before she can worry a hole in his sweater.

"You don’t really think that. I care about you too David and you know that. It's why I'm here."

"Why are you here? Back in town I mean."

"Well, Stavros kind of dropped me at a port in the Mediterranean and picked up stupid Mary Kate, turns out it was for the best. As soon as I landed I got the call from Stevie."

David studies her for a moment and sees, for the first time, that she really believes it's for the best. He’s hoped for this moment for so many years, the day his sister finally tires of hopping port to port with some yacht owning art dealer or smuggler or whatever crowd it is she runs with these days.

"I'm sorry Alexis," he says sincerely, because he means it. Just because she’s ready to, hopefully, leave this lifestyle behind, doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt. 

"I'm not. But we're not here to talk about me… we're here to talk about you and darling Patrick."

Button. Doll. Darling. All words that describe Patrick sure, but not the words he's grown so accustomed to associating with Patrick. _Honey. Boyfriend. Lover._ Those are David’s words… were David’s words?

He heaves a loud sigh. "Am I being overdramatic?"

"Always!" Stevie calls from the other room.

"But that doesn't mean it's not founded in like, your reality. Sebbie was awful. He didn't treat you right. Does Patrick?"

David thinks for a moment, remembering how Patrick gladly keeps him fed and doesn't judge him for his eating habits. The time he taped his knee in the locker room because he knew David was on the brink of a panic attack. 

He thinks about how Patrick steered him away from Sebastian for an entire weekend. How he's been texting him every day since the incident, and every day before that for as long as they've known each other. 

Patrick, who teases him about never showering naked in a public locker room, and about his need to cover his entire body with elegant and expensive clothing when not wearing a speedo. 

He thinks about the vase of flowers on his dining table, the cake in his fridge, the chocolates probably still in his stomach… all of these, ways Patrick’s been caring for David over the last few days.

Patrick takes care of David in a way no one ever has.

But Patrick is a distraction, especially now after Rachel. He's now caused heartbreak and stress and brought up every insecurity David's ever had. 

Maybe it's wrong of David to erase all the good Patrick brought to his life just because an ex-fiancée showed up… but it was an ex-fiancée Patrick had neglected to tell him about… even knowing his hang ups with trusting other people.

He presses his lips into a thin line and nods. 

"So… what are you waiting for?" 

"To not feel like I've got a horde of moths living in my stomach?"

He’s waiting for things to make sense, to feel safe… to be undeniably clear. He wants to go back into this without any doubts, with complete certainty that things are going to be okay because if his reaction to losing Patrick feels this bad, he can’t imagine having to go through this again.

"Maybe those are like, love moths?"

"Um… not possible. Moths equate terror not love."

"Well, maybe you think they're moths when in reality… they're butterflies,” she says with a shimmy.

"As cute and weird as this conversation sounds this pizza is getting cold and I'm not ordering you a fresh one David." Stevie calls from the other room again.

He can't figure out why the hell she left the room if she's still butting into their conversation, but he’s glad to have had this moment with Alexis.

"Alexis I just don't know that I can–not with Trials. It needs to stay professional if I'm going to make it through. I'm freaked out enough as it is without having to worry about Patrick as well."

"I guess I understand David. But maybe as much as you think Patrick is a distraction he’s actually a strength. Just think about it okay?"

He rolls his eyes and pulls the covers off before crawling out of bed. He’s had about enough of his little sister being wiser than him.

Before they leave the safety of his bedroom, he pulls Alexis into a brief hug, his arms wrapping awkwardly around her lithe frame. He’s so glad she’s here, that he’s gotten to see her. He feels anchored by her nearness in a way he doesn’t think he has in a very long time. "I've missed you,” he says into her hair.

"I've missed you too weirdo."

\----------

David misses purely existing in Patrick's space and he's a little ashamed that it's the biggest motivator for him agreeing to return to the pool and continuing their synchro training, his desire to win aside.

He finds he misses Patrick's presence in the oddest of places. He's never spent much time at his dining table even though he'd paid a fortune for it, with it's clean mid century lines and dark wood finish, until Patrick started staying over. 

The first time they'd spent the night together Patrick had made him breakfast and set the table before David's ugg-ed feet had hit the floor that next morning. 

He hadn't even realized he owned a tablecloth before that.

Now, the emptiness of the chair next to his is enough to send him back to eating on the couch. He'd spent one evening pushing food around his plate, the wide expanse of the empty table laid out in front of him before he abandoned his meal and went straight back to bed.

The sink in his bathroom that quickly became Patrick's sits unused as well, Patrick's little blue toothbrush even looks sad… like it misses him too.

He can't count on one hand the number of times Patrick sat perched on the counter watching David get ready for bed. He often asked questions about his different products and occasionally let David apply a few to his under eyes of the even the dreaded T zone. 

Patrick's overnight cosmetic bag, as sad and mostly empty as it is, still sits on the counter because David is pathetic and can't seem to even put it in a drawer.

Don't get him started on how the side of his bed that's become Patrick’s sits untouched and unwashed. 

Patrick does at least texting and each time David feels relieved. He selfishly never wants Patrick to stop texting because if he stops well, that means he's stopped caring right?

Sometimes David texts him back, admitting to missing him, to longing for him, but he's always quick to shut it down before either of them can get too hopeful. 

It's a Tuesday when David goes back to the pool. Eight days since The Incident… though it feels like weeks.

He's stretched and worked out but he needs the pool. As much as he's missing Patrick, he's missing the sting of chlorine almost as much, no matter how much damage it does to his hair.

He texts Patrick and lets him know he's coming back to train but he's still not ready to talk. Part of him feels like that's not fair, to ask Patrick to keep waiting.

Maybe David's ready to get back together, or is ready to want to get back together… or ready to be ready.

He's not sure, his mind is still a mess. Trials are swiftly approaching and being with Patrick feels like a liability. 

More than it did before because he knows… he _feels_ how much it hurts, how close it is to ripping his entire fucking world apart and he can't allow that to happen. Not with the Olympics, his and Patrick's events, hanging in the balance. 

He can tell from Patrick's response that he still wants to talk things out but is just as eager to get David back to the pool.

It's hard, the first few days back, not to fall into old habits. Patrick picks up David's shammy as if to tease him or pop him, only to either set it back down or hand it over.

He struggles too, catching a wry grin or sinful smirk playing on his lips after a good dive. Small gestures that have become second nature.

They switch synchro to the morning routine so that David can escape the locker room without having to exist in that permanently tainted place with Patrick, memories of their relationship are etched into the white brick that it's hard enough for David to be in there by himself.

To add insult to injury… their synchro isn't great.

It feels a bit like it did when they started, they're good but not placing good, Olympics good. David knows he's pulling out too soon and Patrick's diving like he's got too much on his mind…And he probably does.

It leaves them both frustrated which only compounds the mistakes.

It makes David's knee twinge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will start looking up a bit after this chapter. We've gotta get these boys to the Olympics.


	10. 'cause no one breaks my heart like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olympic Trials and Olive Branches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my rose buddies and sun loafs.

A one hour flight from Toronto to Windsor isn't bad all things considered. David gets to have the window seat next to Jocelyn, Patrick, several rows back, is crammed in with Roland and Rollie Jr. 

He's glad Trials aren't too far from home, Alexis said she may even be able to make it to see him this time, though he won't hold his breath.

Everything seems to move smoothly until they get to the hotel.

"Looks like you boys will be sharing a room," Jocelyn says from the front desk of the hotel. 

"Thought we booked three rooms," David huffs, moving to stand next to her. 

"We did, but with Rollie and the baby _and_ Ronnie here this time…"

"You didn't think, with everything that's happened, separate rooms might be a good idea?! You should have called when things… when we uh, you know?"

"It's not my fault you boys decided to… look David, maybe it'll be good. We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy," she says brightly, her hair bouncing as she nods along with her own words.

David looks across the lobby and finds Patrick, looking moderately uncomfortable with his shoulders so high they're nearly framing his ears. He turns back to the lady behind the front desk and attempts his most charming smile but before a word even leaves his mouth she's shaking her head.

Of course they're booked up. He glances back over at Patrick and resolves to make this at least… comfortable. 

"Well, from the looks of Patrick, he's just as upset about this as I am… I don't think embracing joy is gonna do it this time."

It's only about a 4 hour drive home, maybe he can just commute. That was a completely reasonable thing to do… it’s a completely ridiculous thing to do. Maybe he'll call Alexis and see if she managed to get a hotel room. _Maybe_ he'll grow up and bite the bullet and share a room with the guy he's probably in love with and actively avoiding. 

He can do that. 

\------------

They drop their bags and Patrick’s out the door before David even removes his Uggs from his suitcase, mumbling something about Ronnie. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he's been holding and feels his shoulders relax. He takes a bit to freshen up and unpack the rest of his belongings before heading down the hall to Stevie and Twyla's room. 

"Oh sure you can hang out in here… it's not like we were planning on having any time to ourselves," Stevie says as she opens the door and sees David waiting expectantly on the other side. 

"You'll have plenty of time together later. I'm having to share a room with Patrick so clearly I can't hang out in there," he says, slipping in despite the fact Stevie is still very much standing in his way. 

"You could if you'd just–" Stevie starts, closing the door after apparently accepting the fact he’s not going anywhere.

"I didn't come here for a lecture."

"Does that mean if I give you one you'll leave?" Stevie smirks, tucking her feet underneath her as she sits on what appears to be Twyla's bed if the floral tops laid out ready to go into the closet are any indication.

"Oh Stevie, leave him alone. It's obvious he misses Patrick. It reminds me of the time my mom's third husband went back to jail for the fourth time; it was really difficult for her. I'm sure David is having a hard time too.” Twyla chirps as she pops up from the otherside of the bed, seemingly having stored her luggage under there.

David watches as Twyla climbs onto the bed behind Stevie and absentmindedly starts braiding Stevie's dark locks.

He knows from his wine nights with Stevie that things with Twyla have been going extremely well but the easy affection between them makes him thrilled for Stevie but makes him ache for Patrick's touch. 

"Okay but Patrick didn't go to jail, David is choosing to put himself in this _difficult situation_. It’s been how long and you’re still refusing to speak to him about it?" 

David blinks and heaves a sign, flopping down on Stevie's bed. "We’ve talked about it… once."

“Oh right… when you told him you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I also said I would probably be open to talking about it… at some point?” He adds, moving Stevie’s pillows around until they’re in the correct formation for him to view the television comfortably. “Can we just watch a movie or something?”

"Actually we're all going to go out. Did you not get the group text? Ted's organizing a dinner." 

"I forgot to turn it on after we got off the plane?" he lies. He’d seen the text, he’d just been hoping he could talk them into staying. If he was the only one that didn’t attend it would look sad, like he was avoiding Patrick. While that may be the case, he didn’t want it to be obvious.

"Well, maybe you should check it because I also got a text from Alexis and let her know about dinner,” Stevie says with a knowing smirk on her face before she pulls her finished braid over he shoulder and her smile shifts to something much more fond as she leans over and drops a kiss onto Twyla’s shoulder.

"What the fuck? She's here? Why didn’t she text me?" he croaks indignantly.

“I’m assuming it was so she could surprise you with some obnoxious sign from the stands. Just come to dinner David, Patrick will be there but... ” Stevie starts before heaving her own loud sigh. “I’m tired of telling you to pull your head out of your ass, but it’s clear he’s just as big of an idiot as you are and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

" _Okay_ ." he snips, knowing Stevie will recognize his response for ' _please stop knowing me so well’._

She has enough shame to offer him a sad smile and lift her shoulder as if to say she knew she was right but didn't mean she was happy about it.

David rolls his eyes and pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees he's missed texts not only from Alexis but even a good luck text from his dad and a text from his mother asking if he’d mistakenly brought her favorite pair of Burberry sunglasses.

\----------

Dinner is an awkward affair. It's just him, Stevie and Twyla, Ted and Alexis, and Patrick. 

Alexis seems to find Ted immensely interesting, Stevie is nearly attached to Twyla's face and Patrick is sitting diagonally across from him, eating what seems to be his weight in chips and salsa. 

He's spent so long trying not to look at Patrick that now that he has no choice he can't take his eyes off him… he studies him for the first time in weeks. 

His face looks slimmer, his hair is limper and a little longer than he's ever seen it. His smile doesn't reach his eyes when he speaks to Twyla. He looks like he's not shaved in days. 

He's miserable too.

David's not happy Patrick's miserable but there is a sense of relief that floods his body. If Patrick's miserable then that means he misses David too, that this thing between them is real… Was real? 

He feels his heart clench painfully in his chest. He _wants_ to reach across the table, to tell Patrick he forgives him and maybe even that he loves him or… or at least that he doesn't want to be without him any longer, but he _can't._

Not when he's staring down the barrel of the Olympic Trials. 

Not when his knee is having some kind of ghost twinge every time he thinks about the fact he'll be in the exact spot where his life ended all those years ago in a matter of days.

Patrick's eyes catch his, catching him mid longing glance. He swallows hard but doesn't look away, the honey color of Patrick's irises are comforting, soothing, a balm to his aching soul. 

And it's not fair that he takes that from Patrick when he can't give him anything in return. He can't give him anything… can’t give him forgiveness without giving him his heart back. 

Patrick holds his gaze and offers David a small smile, as if he knows. As if he sees David for all that he is, his fears and anxieties. 

He has to blink back tears and it's enough for him to break his hold on Patrick's gaze, enough for him to seek out the aqua of his sister's eyes that seem to be waiting for him from her seat next to Ted. 

The dinner continues with small talk, expectations of how everyone will do mixed with enchiladas, margaritas, and enough chips and salsa to drown out the rest of the world.

When it's finally time to depart he watches Alexis give Patrick a tight squeeze while he hangs back hoping for a moment alone with his sister. 

She must say something to him because he offers her a sad smile and chuckles before pulling her in for another tight squeeze. It’s as if the world knows something he doesn’t. 

Once it's finally his turn she wraps her long willowy arms around him and hugs him tightly.

"What is this?" he asks, this physical aspect of their relationship still new.

"I'm hugging you," she states and he feels her shrug as if this sign of affection is nothing.

"Why?"

"Because you're being very dumb and also you look sad,” she said as she pinches his side, teasing. 

He chuckles into her shoulder because she’s so right it’s painful.

"Okay, I don't need this type of character assassination," he says wriggling enough to let her know he's uncomfortable but not enough to actually break the hug, in fact, his arms circle her small frame tighter. 

"Just, I don't know David… think about what's best for your heart for once?"

He nods weakly, his chin resting on her shoulder. He feels like that’s all he’s doing, thinking about what’s best for him… just maybe not in the right way. He’s thinking about his career, Patrick’s career… not his heart.

\----------

Patrick is magnificent. No one dives like him. His body moves so gracefully, it's like he was born to do this. It's beautiful… he's beautiful. 

David spent the time during Patrick's prelims and semifinals in the gym training with Jocelyn but he can't stay away from the final round. He needs to see Patrick win.

David watches him amidst a sea of red and white, their teammates and family members piled around him. He sees Sebastian three rows in front of him, can hear Stevie and Twyla's cheers coming from his right, and feels Alexis's nails digging a bit too hard into his bicep, but all he really sees is Patrick. 

He has his determined face on. The one he had the day he told David they would make it here months ago. The one he wore the first time he undressed David, pure determination to be good. To be the best.

And Patrick _is_ the best, even when he's decidedly not. 

He watches Patrick walk down the board, tracks his hurdle, his form as he leaves the board, the way his hands grip his calves as he tucks. 

The sea of red erupts around him, his body moving with them of its own accord, his throat burning from his own cheers he doesn't hear leave his mouth. 

He glances at the screen to watch as Patrick's scores get submitted, he watches as the camera tracks Patrick.

Patrick's got the look on his face he always does when he looks at– David's eyes leave the screen and find Patrick's. 

They're far enough away from each other that he shouldn't really be able to tell that he's met Patrick's eyes, but he's confident at this point he could feel that man's eyes on him from any distance. 

Patrick stands at the edge of the pool, a black shammy slung over his shoulder.

That _shit_ , that's David's shammy. Of course it's David's shammy and he's holding onto it like it's some goddamn good luck charm and David feels his heart melt and settle warmly in the pit of his stomach. 

His mouth falls open in disbelief and he swears Patrick's smirking at him. He blinks and glances back up at the screen to see if he is in fact smirking but he sees his scores instead. He sits back down in between Stevie and Alexis with a huff.

Stevie leans into David's side, her hand hovering awkwardly before patting his hand. "Did you just now notice the shammy?"

"Isn't that the cutest little thing David? Look at him with your towel thingy!" Alexis gushes, her hands flailing daintily as she wiggles happily in her seat.

"He's going to win," he whispers, his hand grabbing one of hers out of the air and holding it tightly.

"Of course he is, he's Patrick," Stevie says from his other side, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He does indeed win. He's qualified, he's going to the Olympics with or without David and David's so fucking proud. 

\----------

David’s prelim event is the morning following Patrick's win. He finds his black shammy folded neatly atop his gym bag. He comes in third but he blames his over rotation on the fact Alexis is in the stands with a sign for both him and Ted. When the fuck did they become a thing? 

He comes in second in the semifinal's round, Ted sadly, not making it past the prelims so the only sign to distract him was his own, though he's sure Ted is in the stands with his sister. He's got to ask her about that as soon as possible.

It's a fast turn around, these events. All three rounds take place within 24 hours which means he's at the pool early for the final round, only a handful of Canadian divers in the final round and only the top qualifying for the Olympics.

David can feel Patrick's eyes on him through the entirety of his meet. 

When he went to grab his bag this morning in addition to his black shammy, he'd found Patrick's blue one waiting on top of his as if Patrick was wishing him luck. He's grateful Patrick's in the shower when he finds it because there's no way he could have explained away the hitch in his breathing.

He's up against Sebastian and it's a bit harder to avoid him in the slimmed down number of divers in the final. 

David's surprised Sebastian even made it this far. 

David's surprised _he's_ made it this far. 

He doesn't chance a glance into the stands until he's on the seven and a half meter waiting to go up the final ladder, next up to dive his last dive. 

His eyes find his sister's annoying pink sign and Stevie's crossed arms not far from her. Then he finds Patrick. His round face and broad shoulders are ridiculously easy to identify.

He thinks vaguely that they need to stop meeting like this, their eyes gazing at each other longingly across the pool, it's ridiculous. 

He takes his fill of Patrick one last time on the end of the ten meter before tossing the blue shammy down to the pool deck and turning his back to prepare himself for his armstand. 

He falters for a moment as he remembers Patrick commenting on his perfect form all those months ago, before everything had happened between them. 

He gets himself back under control and pushes off, his body going purely off muscle memory. The twists and the flips all transition seamlessly. 

He can tell by his entry he's nailed it. There's no way he won't place now and with the high degree of difficulty on that dive, he may even take first.

He's going to the Olympics, for an individual event. He's wanted this for so long. 

He wipes hot tears from his face as he climbs out of the pool because he's starkly aware now that even in the face of victory he doesn't long for Patrick any less, he only long's for him more. Apparently all of these achievements don't mean much when he's not basking in the glow of Patrick's pride and affection. He's worked so hard and it's paid off, but he still feels empty.

David's high from winning his finals round doesn't last long, mere seconds, because Sebastian also qualifies. 

By the time medals are awarded and press is finished he's half starved and exhausted and ready to turn in for the day.

He slips back into anxiety as he makes his way back to the hotel knowing Patrick will be there because they have their synchro prelims the next morning and they both need to get some rest.

They've been pretty successful at missing each other so far because their schedules haven't lined up but now, well now their schedules are the same.

David showers the pool off and dresses for a relaxing evening in, planning to order delivery and read his book and ignore Patrick as best he can… Which is ridiculous. 

Tomorrow feels daunting. They've not been diving all that well together for a month. He wonders if they should even bother. His knee is driving him crazy, surely it would be better to just…

He knows that's not better. He'd never do that to Patrick, to himself. He owes it to the both to try. 

So he'll tape his knee. That's something tangible he can do and will hopefully be enough to put his mind at ease so he can think clearly and perform well tomorrow. His hands have hardly left it alone anyway, fluttering nervously around it every time he thinks about getting on a three meter board.

He's anxious.

He's terrified.

He can't fuck this up. He won't.

He also knows there's a good chance the discomfort he's feeling is all in his head which doesn't make him feel any better, it just makes him feel crazy. 

He pictures Patrick's face in place of Sebastian's all those years ago, the look of anger and disgust so out of place on the other man's kind face. 

David takes a deep shaking breath in, his eyes finding Patrick's across the room. He's sure he looks insane, that Patrick can see the panic setting in because Patrick is already looking at him, worry evident in his little eyebrows. 

David turns back to his knee before relenting and pulling the tape from his bedside table and rolls up the leg of his joggers.

After several minutes of messing with the tape though, frustrated groans leaving the back of his throat, he feels hands brush his own away from his knee. 

He looks up to find Patrick moving to sit in front of him on the bed, making quick work of the taping process. 

David tries not to dwell too much on the fact this is the first time Patrick's touched him in weeks. Over a month really. 

He does dwell on it though, he's only human after all. Patrick's fingers feel like home on his skin.

He tries not to think back to the last time Patrick had taped his knee for him. It was before they'd kissed, in the locker room of their first competition, before he knew how a touch that wasn't platonic from Patrick felt like. He'd been freaking out about the dive, now he's mostly freaking out about the man in front of him. 

He _hurts._ He misses Patrick even though he's less than a few feet from him most days. He misses him right now and he can feel Patrick fingers on his skin. 

It's not fair. He'd worked so hard for this partnership, for this relationship and then once he'd had it… he'd worried about losing it. And now that he's lost it, his distraught that he may never have it again. 

Hot tears fall down his cheeks without his permission. 

David can feel his heart rate dropping back down to the normal range though. He hates that Patrick has this effect on him, that Patrick putting tape around his knee can drop his panic quicker than anything he's ever used to calm it before.

"It's going to be fine David," Patrick speaks softly, smoothing the piece of tape rounding the right side of his knee, the tension perfect. 

"Patrick, I don't know if you've noticed but our diving has been less than stellar."

"I'm talking about you and your knee," he whispers and when David looks up at him he looks as though he's not done, that there's more he's longing to say.

He wishes he was talking about them. Their relationship. 

Patrick smooths his hand along the piece of tape on the left side of his knee before falling back to sit perched on his heels, his mouth pulling to the side as if he's mulling over the perfect response. 

"Look David, even if we don't–if you make it through tomorrow without blowing your knee, that'll be enough of a win for me. I want you to feel free, and I think you've got to prove that to yourself– it's not my place but David," but Patrick trails off and shakes his head before standing.

He looks like he's going to press a kiss to David's forehead but he doesn't. He simply grabs his phone and excuses himself from the room.

He falls back against his pillows and lets his tears fall freely. He hates this, this feeling of unease that now permanently lives in his stomach, the ache he feels because he wants so badly to be with Patrick.

It feels like he’s ripping in two, like the halves of himself are warring indefinitely between letting himself love Patrick and locking that up and trying to go through life without having Patrick the way he wants to. 

He knows the latter feels a bit like a half life but the first option might just kill him.

\----------

They're so off it's painful and David can't turn his damn brain off. 

He keeps seeing Sebastian's face, his knee in the aftermath, the look on Patrick's face when Rachel showed up. 

It causes him to hesitate, throwing their second round dive off. 

Jocelyn can't even speak to him, no amount of inspirational quotes enough to lift her spirits. She just shakes her head and tries her best to offer him an encouraging smile from the sidelines. 

Patrick's face looks so damn sad.

He's making a mess of everything. He’s found a way to fuck this up without the added pressure of a relationship because of course he has.

"David," Patrick whispers as he approaches. They're in the sixth and final round now. They're not at the bottom but it's not looking good. They've got to hold their current place if they want a chance of moving to the semi finals, let alone final round.

"Please, don't," David whispers, turning away from Patrick 

Patrick simply steps around him and stands in front of him once more, his hand moving to grip David's shoulder.

"No, I'm going to. You've got to stop thinking David. You've got to just dive. Focus on the times we've done this dive successfully. Don't think about Sebastian or your knee… or me? Just, dive David. You can do this."

Nodding numbly David makes his way over to the boards.

He does think of Patrick though, as he readies himself for the dive. He thinks about that first time he did this dive with him. Patrick's arms tight around him in the water afterward like it's his happiest memory and he's trying to conjure a fucking patronus. 

Patrick makes him so happy, makes him feel like a better, more whole version of himself and it’s just enough to clear his head, to sharpen his focus. 

He glances over at Patrick and nods.

He counts them down and they’re off. It feels so much like it had that first time. The anxiety, the fear… but the undeniable trust in his partner and his faith. 

As the water crashes around his ears he wants nothing more than for Patrick to pull him close and kiss him senseless on the pool deck like he’d done before. Or at least hold him, but David knows as he surfaces and makes his way to the deck that none of that will be waiting for him because he’s made it clear to Patrick that he doesn't want it.

And he might be the biggest fucking idiot that’s ever lived.

He wants it, all of it

He needs it, and he’s going to tell Patrick. He’s going to kiss him on the deck of the pool this time. He’s going to take the risk this time.

Except by the time he gets out of the pool Ronnie is pulling Patrick out of his reach to congratulate him and Sebastian is standing in his way.

His eyes search for the scoreboard and he sees they’ve somehow, someway have made it, they’ve placed and qualified for the semi-final round… by a tenth of a point, but he doesn’t care. All he wants to do is reach Patrick, get his hands on him and pull him close but he can’t because Sebastian is still for some godforsaken reason, standing in his way.

Sebastian stops him as he tries to pass and David hears himself growl.

“What?!” he barks as he tears himself out of Sebastian’s grip though the other man still moves them away from the coaches and the cameras.

“I just want to talk David.”

“Right here? Right now? Can’t it wait? I need to find Pat--” he says, trying to move past Sebastian who just steps into his path again.

"So I'm guessing you fucked him and what? It didn't go well? Did he realize he wasn't into guys or just not into you?"

David’s never been a violent person, he’s never hit anyone in his life but he feels his fist clench reflexively at his side. 

"You know what Sebastian. I'm done. I am done letting you talk to me that way, letting you talk about Patrick that way."

Sebastian's eyebrows lift comically toward his hairline, a mix of amusement and admiration crossing his face, but it settles into gleeful glint in his eye and a daring smirk. Clearly he hadn't been expecting David to fight back. 

"David you and I both know you'll allow me to do anything I want," he whispers, moving forward and subsequently backing David against the base of the diving boards.

"Maybe that was true, but not anymore. I'm worth more than that,” he says, and he feels the truth of it settle in his bones.

"And who told you that? Sweet Pat?"

"God you and my mother," he grumbles, moving to step around Sebastian again.

Sebastian counters his move. David flinches away as Sebastian leans closer into his space. "Leave Patrick, be my partner again."

David's eyes widen as he meets Sebastian's eyes, hoping to find evidence of a ruse, for this to be one giant joke. When he finds none, his mouth drops open in disbelief. "It's a little late in the season for that Sebastian."

"Next season then. Give us a chance to make it all the way," and Sebastian hands brace either side of David's head, squeezing too hard to be comfortable.

"Why?"

"Well, honestly David, you're better than you've ever been. I mean, of course this week is excluded."

"I'd literally rather blow my knee out again. That was the best thing that's ever happened to me. It gave me my family back, got me the hell away from you and more importantly it brought me Patrick."

He could see Sebastian's confidence falter, but only for a second.

"You're right."

"I am?"

"Yeah, Patrick's the only reason you're any good now."

David knows Sebastian means it as an insult, he can see it in the set of his jaw. But the thing is, he’s right. Patrick is the reason David’s good. 

Patrick pushes David to be better, train harder, put his heart and soul into it. David also wants to be better _for Patrick._ He doesn't want to let him down, and he isn't about to start now. He’s done letting Patrick down. 

"I've got to go."

"Running away, just like you always do! I’ll be here when you come to your senses," Sebastian calls, causing several of the other divers around them to look their way. 

But David isn't running away, he’s running home. 

He needs to find Patrick. 

He finds him fully dressed and tying his shoes on the bench in the locker room. 

He really needs to evaluate how much time they spend in locker rooms if all their pivotal relationship moments happen in them.

He hopes this is another pivotal moment.

"David? Are you okay?" Patrick asks and he must look insane standing in front of Patrick in nothing but his speedo, his face he's sure, nothing short of crazed.

"I want to get back together."

"What?"

"I've been ready to get back together for ages."

"What?!"

"I've been scared. It's Trials, Patrick. I didn't want to rewrite history, I didn't want to fail or let you down or myself down and what I've really done is just fucked everything up. God I'm so sorry Patrick, I'm sorry I was so scared," he says, his hands moving to hide his face and the tears spilling down his cheeks. 

He hears Patrick stand and feels his hands being pulled away from his face to reveal Patrick's handsome face. 

As irritated as Patrick probably is, he still cradles David's face in his hands, his thumbs moving to brush away David's tears.

As soon as his tears stop falling Patrick's hands drop off his side and he takes a step back.

David can see the emotions he's feeling fighting for who gets control of his face, which one's going to come out first.

"You mean to tell me you wanted to get back together but you didn't tell me because you were still worried that this was all going to go away? David, it almost all went away because you didn't say anything!"

"I know that _now!_ How was I supposed to know that before?"

"David I've been tormenting myself for _weeks._ And you just let me? Because you were scared?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Not only did you nearly cost us our shot at the Olympics but you… we could've been–" Patrick stops and just shakes his head, clearly at a loss for words. “David, all I want is to be with you… I’ve been so worried that you didn’t want that anymore. I’ve been trying for weeks to convince myself that having you as a partner was better than not having you at all and now… I just need a second to wrap my head around it.”

“O-kay. Okay, I can give you space, you gave me space,” he whispers.

“David, I’m tired of having space. I would like the absence of space.”

“Okay? I’m not really understanding then, what it is you want because-” but then Patrick’s lips are on his, however brief, and David swears he can feel his heart stitching itself back together.

"I think maybe you need to give me an olive branch or two? Remember how much I've been torturing myself? Fair is fair, I think," he says, pulling back far enough to meet David’s gaze.

Patrick's lips are so close David is certain if he licks his own lips he'll probably lick Patrick's too.

He tries, Patrick moving back as if anticipating it. 

Patrick's hands slide around David's waist, resting low on his back. He presses a chaste kiss to David's lips again and David is certain he is very nearly a puddle on the floor, molten liquid settling in his knees.

“We’ll talk over a nice dinner once we get back home." 

David feels every muscle in his body relax. Patrick wants David to think about what he's done but he's also telling him they're back, that they're okay.

He tips his head back in an attempt to corral his tears back into his eyes.

"David, we're going to be fine."

"I know… That’s why I'm _not_ crying."

He hears Patrick chuckle softly and feels his heart expand three sizes, like the Earth was spinning on the wrong axis and just fell back into place. He feels like he can take his first solid breath in over a month, his lungs burning… his entire being burning with the excitement of it all. 

He pulls Patrick into a tight hug, nowhere near ready to let go. He wants every inch of their skin to connect, he wants to absorb Patrick because he’s home and he feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter feels rewarding enough? Lemme know what you think!


	11. you are the wave i could never tame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys do some winning and spend some quality time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't planned which is why it took me so long to post... but you guys got a bonus chapter! A BIG thank you to the writing bar and all the hand holding.

“David honey, are you sure you don’t want me to...”

“Yeah, yes I’m sure. It’s… fine? I’m fine? Probably?” David says, pacing in front of their stretch of bleachers as they wait to take to the pool for their final round. 

It’s been nearly 24 hours since David told Patrick he wanted to get back together, and Patrick’s been… he’s been  _ extremely  _ Patrick about the whole thing. Supportive, sweet, _k_ _ ind.  _

There’s not been too much time for talking, no time at all for any type of physical affection. They had their semifinal round the morning after and now, mere hours later, they’re back at the pool for the final.

The semis went much better than the prelims. They came in second, just short of the Montreal team with Sebastian and Jake hot on their heels in third. The bit of pressure relieved from the initial talk they had in the locker room was enough to clear both of their heads enough to clean up their synchro. 

David stops pacing just long enough to shake his limbs and roll his shoulders. When he turns to continue wearing a hole in the concrete he finds Patrick in his path. 

“If you need me to tape it David, it’s okay. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

David smiles softly at Patrick and grasps his shoulder with one of his hands, “I know, thank you Patrick… but I think I need to do this, without any help? Just you know, um… having you by my side is enough for me today.”

“Okay, David. Let’s do this then,” he says with a grin. 

The first four rounds are smooth and clean and they’ve got a pretty decent lead in the 4th round. They lose it in the following round due to very high degree of difficulty from the Montreal pair, but they’re prepared for it, they know it’s coming.

They know, if they nail their dive… they’ll close the gap, if not completely overtake that team. 

David feels the best he’s ever felt staring down the end of the board, knowing what’s coming. Four years ago, he’d effectively ended his career and what he’d thought was a long term relationship with a half decent guy.

When he surfaces, he’s nailed that same dive and effectively sealed his fate, earning his trip to the 2020 Olympic Games for a second event, and he’d done it with an actual decent guy he’s absolutely in love with and he feels effervescent. 

There’s no poolside makeout this time but there is a lingering embrace, their slick skin pressing and sliding together as they celebrate within their own little bubble, if only for a moment before they are enveloped in the rest of their team.

They place first. The team that was ahead of them scores low enough on the last round to bump them into third place, putting Sebastian and Jake on the Olympic track with them. 

David’s not thinking about that though, he’s only thinking about Patrick's fingers laced with his as they stand atop the medal podium. 

\----------

The tension in their hotel room is abundantly better that evening. It’s still there, but it's a different tension. It’s from things still in the process of getting resolved, not from unspoken apologies and feelings left unsaid… though there is a feeling David is leaving very decidedly unsaid. 

They’re still dancing around each other though. The quick turnaround time between the prelims and the finals didn’t lend itself to much time to talk, let alone get reacquainted with each other’s bodies… which definitely played a part in the plans David’s been working on.

“We’ve got just under two months until Tokyo,” David tosses out casually as he folds his knits and joggers neatly on the end of his bed, readying his suitcase for their departure tomorrow.

“Yeah, I’m very aware of how much time left we have to train David,” Patrick shoots back, lounging temptingly against his pillows, his suitcase having been packed that morning. 

“Yes but, I’d like to take a break... with you.” David’s eyes lift from the cream colored sweater in his hands to Patrick, gauging his reaction. “A little vacation? I’ve… planned a trip? For us?”

David bites back a grin at the look of surprise that crosses Patrick’s face, his light eyebrows lifting and his eyes sparkling.

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ That’s very nice David,” Patrick finally says, pulling himself up to sit straighter against his headboard. “I’d like that. Time with you, just us.”

“Well, our check in is late tomorrow afternoon.”

“We’ll have just gotten home!” Patrick exclaims, surely thinking about the laundry he’ll have to leave untouched and unpacked for a few days in order to make this work.

“I made some calls and pulled some strings after our semi-finals round… and Ronnie seemed less likely to allow you to go the closer we get to the Olympics and Jocelyn agreed about my schedule, so we need to go now?” 

David closes his suitcase and rolls it over next to Patrick’s before padding quickly over to Patrick’s bed having already packed his protective Ugg boots. He only hesitates for a moment until Patrick lifts his arms and smiles warmly, finally curling into Patrick’s side for the first time in what feels like forever. 

Patrick scoots back down, dropping a kiss to David’s hair before snuggling in, both of his strong arms wrapping around David as David nuzzles his cheek against the soft and warm t-shirt covering Patrick’s chest.

David feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. In the comfort of Patrick’s embrace he realizes how starved he’s been for it. He squeezes Patrick all the tighter causing a chuckle that David feels rumble against his cheek. 

_ Home. _ Patrick Brewer feels like home and David wants to tell him, wants him to know just how much he’s missed him, how sorry he is that he let his fear hold him hostage and caused the distance between them to last a bit longer than it should’ve. He wants to tell him he never wants there to be any distance.

"Where are we going? What should I pack?" Patrick finally asks, one of his hands wandering now, running soothing circles in between David’s shoulder blades and along his side teasingly. 

"A swimsuit. Clothes are optional? It's just for two days and then we'll be back… it's all the time I could get Ronnie and Jocelyn to let up on our schedules," he says, his voice already thick with exhaustion as the warmth of Patrick’s body warms his and the stress of the last few days finally catches up.

He blinks his eyes open blearily when he feels Patrick’s fingers tip his chin back so he’s looking up into his honey colored eyes. Patrick’s smiling down at him, eyes crinkling in the way that David finds utterly charming. David smiles back and Patrick’s thick fingers dance up from his chin to get a better hold of his jaw, pulling David’s lips to his own. 

David inhales sharply, the sleepy fog lifting from his brain immediately. 

When Patrick pulls back, David’s eyes stay closed, unwilling to leave the glowing happiness of this moment, even for a second.

"It sounds perfect David," Patrick whispers before their lips meet again, the kiss slow and sweet.

\----------

The sounds of wildlife around them should make David nervous, at least set him on edge but not even the occasional moth is enough to upset him. He’s the most relaxed he’s been in ages. The dock sways gently with the current. He can just barely make out another dock a little further down across the lake, but other than that, there’s no one around for what feels like miles.

“David, I don’t know how you found this place in the amount of time you did but it's perfect.” Patrick says, clicking his beer against David’s glass of Merlot. 

He bites back the urge to tell Patrick that  _ he’s _ perfect.

"I just… I wanted to do something nice. For you. For us." Is what David says instead, taking a sip and then placing his wine glass precariously on the arm of his adirondack chair. 

He picked this house specifically for it's private beach on a gorgeous stretch of land overlooking Cameron Lake and it's charming dock with two matching chairs. He instantly pictured them enjoying sunsets and mid-morning cups of coffee out there together and now, as they watch the sunset in the distance he's very glad he'd picked it.

"Thank you David. I'm glad you did this for us," Patrick says, grinning over from his own chair, beer in hand. 

He looks so beautiful, his hair still askew from their immediate detour to the bedroom upon entering the house. He’d slipped on a shorter pair of swim trunks on their way down to the dock. He sits with one leg crossed over the other, so that they’re pulled taut in the most delicious way. 

David’s so fucking glad they’re here and they’re  _ talking _ but he can’t completely shake the dred that Patrick’s still upset with him. For hiding and running. He knows his feelings were valid but he’s always been quick to invalidate his own feelings in order to validate everyone else's… He wants to learn to exist where both are true. 

"I'm… sorry Patrick. For, everything."

Patrick turns his head to look at him again, leaning over to set his beer down on the dock. David watches as Patrick takes him in, his brows furrowed in the way they do when he's trying to think.of exactly the right thing to say. 

"David, I don't need you to be sorry. Your feelings weren't wrong. I  _ hurt  _ you, I broke your trust… All of that is true. I just, I want you to be honest about what you want… you've got to stop letting fear keep you from the things you want. And maybe, after everything I didn't deserve your honesty but it killed me, to know you– to think I'd ruined things between us."

He always says the right thing, well… he mostly always says the right thing. David lets out a deep breath and nods. He wants that too, to be honest about what he wants, what he’s feeling.

David reaches across the small gap between their chairs and laces their fingers together, pulling until Patrick gets the picture. His eyes follow longingly as Patrick unfolds himself from his chair, gently places David's glass of wine down next to his beer, and moves to David's lap. 

He keeps Patrick's hand in his even as the other man melts against his chest. He can feel the words he's been more and more certain of over the last few days threatening to surface again. They burn against the back of his throat, flutter around in his chest… they make him feel light-headed, or maybe just light. Because he is so sure of his feelings, and he's fairly certain he always has been, on some level. 

"Patrick, I–I want this. U _ s.  _ For as long as you'll let me have it. The truth is, I love you and I've not  _ really um,  _ said that to a lot of people before just–"

"Your family twice and once at a Mariah Carey concert," Patrick whispers but doesn't say anything else, clearly still giving David the time and space he needs to get this out. 

"Yeah, but this feels different. You feel… different. I fucking feel different. I just, Patrick I want this to  _ work _ and I think I've got to accept the fact that sometimes it  _ does  _ work? And I think, well I think we work… And please at any moment say something to make me shut up because this is a really drawn out way to say that I–" but David doesn't get to say it again, and for a split second he's glad not to have said it twice for Patrick to reject him, but then he realizes the reason he's not confessing his love once more is because Patrick's lips are pressed tightly against his own. 

Breathing hard, David takes as deep of a breath as he can when Patrick pulls back, his hand squeezing the one of Patrick's he's still holding. 

"David, I love you too. So much. You feel different for me too. All of this does… But it feels right, like everything has fallen into place.” Patrick pulls his hand out of David's grasp only to wrap his arms around David and pull him close, the angle from his position on his lap proving difficult. 

Patrick wraps him up for only a few seconds before pulling back and beaming down at David. 

"Mmm, I've missed you so much," David says softly, burying his face into Patrick's neck, inhaling deeply before peppering a few kisses along the skin from his shoulder to his jaw. 

He could write sonnets to Patrick's neck, novels about his thighs, but how he feels right now, love confessions made… he has no words. 

He wraps his arms loosely around Patrick's middle as he feels the other man shift against him, suddenly even more grateful for Patrick’s lack of a shirt. David suddenly has far too many clothes on himself.

" _ David, _ " Patrick pleads and David almost doesn't hear him over the sounds of the water lapping against the dock below their feet. 

David's fingers move of their own accord, the soft pads of his fingertips tracing over Patrick's firm abdomen and along the waistband of his swimming trunks. "These trunks are so tight I don't think I could even get my hand in there, do you?" He whispers against Patrick's ear before his nose runs along the patch of skin just underneath it.

Patrick's vibrating against him now, his head dropping back against David's shoulder as if all his strength is being directed to containing his need, his desire. 

"You could try. You could take them off. I don't care David, I just need your hands on me," he responds, his hands now moving over every inch of skin they can reach, which given their current position is mostly the length of David's arms, one hand finding purchase in the locks on the back of David’s head.

He nuzzles his stubble against Patrick’s neck, following it up with soothing kisses. "They are on you Patrick.” 

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

Patrick flips over so one of his legs brackets either side of David’s lap, his tongue slipping past David’s lips so fast David huffs a breath out. 

David’s hands run the length of Patrick’s thighs, gripping occasionally to pull him in closer as he licks into Patrick’s mouth, every nerve ending aflame and their bodies move together in a well practiced rhythm. 

The kiss turns filthy, Patrick letting out a frustrated groan as he searches out more friction, a closeness they’re unable to achieve in their current position. Patrick’s teeth dig into the meat of David’s lower lip, causing a hiss and an uncontrollable bucking of David’s hips.

David ends up trying to get his hand down the front of Patrick’s trunks but he was right, his hand won’t fit, especially now with the added tightness of Patrick’s hard length. He growls, the sound reverberating between them, in the pocket of warmth and breath and sweat they’ve created over the last few minutes. 

Patrick lets out what can only be described as a squeak as David’s hands move to cradle his ass as he lifts them both out of the chair, which is a feat in itself with how low to the ground that chair is. 

_ Fuck. _ Patrick’s destroyed. His eyes are blown wider than David’s ever seen, his lips wet and glistening in the light of the moon and the few lights littering the dock, his chest heaving. It causes David to falter, nearly dropping Patrick on his ass as he tries to get them inside as fast as humanly possible. 

They tumble inside and into bed still laughing at David’s clumsy move and Patrick wiggles free, dragging David the rest of the way. 

Laughter quickly fades to breaths rushing out, moans, slick skin gliding against slick skin. David’s quick to get Patrick’s trunks off and tosses them much harder than he needs to out of his sight, his hand wrapping around Patrick in an attempt to waste no more time. 

They’ve already wasted so much of it.

“God David, I love you… I love you so much,” Patrick breathes, his head thrown back against the pillows as David’s hand glides over his length, using every trick in the book to bring him to climax in record time.

Patrick’s hand grips tightly to David’s forearm, moving up and down with him. David can’t help but lean forward, the flushed skin of Patricks neck too tempting. 

Patrick comes just as David finishes leaving a spectacularly scarlet mark that Ronnie will definitely point out in a few days time.

David grunts as he’s flipped onto his back, Patrick quickly working his way down his body, making sure he’s not far behind. 

\----------

The rest of the weekend isn’t spent much differently. It’s 48 hours of cuddling on the sofa, mind blowing sex, whispered ‘I love yous’ in the dead of night, and a ton of naps… and one trip down to the lake, which resulted in some more... mindblowing sex.

It’s the best weekend David’s had in as long as he can remember and he doesn’t want to say goodbye to their little lake cottage, but they’ve got Olympic Games to win. 

They make their way home, stopping halfway for snacks they don’t really need. Patrick spends that night and the next day at his own apartment because as much as neither of them wants to say goodbye, even for an evening, they’ve still not unpacked from Trials. 

And Ronnie and Jocelyn will kill them if they turn up to practice completely spent after what was supposed to be a nice and relaxing vacation. 

David pulls Patrick in for another kiss, and then another after he unbuckles and then one more after he opens the door. 

Patrick laughs loudly, leaning back over the console for another lingering kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow David.”

“I know… but I’ll miss you,” he says with a pout, his bottom lip sticking out.

Patrick smiles fondly, his thumb brushing under David’s eye before pressing a kiss to the tender skin. “I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

David just nods, still unprepared to handle the amount of fondness that seems to radiate from Patrick at all times. 

“I love you too.”


	12. i dove in again 'cause i'm not into giving up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are together and at the Olympics! What more could we want? Medals?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to both samwhambam and returntosaturn for the edits and suggestions and hand holding. I've rewritten this chapter no less than three times. I'd also like to thank a rather large group of buddies for consistently yelling at me for weeks and supplying me with pictures of the cutest puppies.

As far as David’s concerned, July and August aren't his favorite months to be in Japan, but any time spent in Japan is preferable to no time in Japan… but being here for the Olympics? Nothing compares to that, nothing except maybe the constant nearness of Patrick. 

Over the last few months things have gone back to being as normal as they can during the months leading up to the Olympics. Their practices are longer and harder which means their down time is full of massages and therapy and icing sore muscles. Thankfully most of these things can be done in each other's company.

The plane ride is long and Patrick is the type of passenger that’s asleep before the plane leaves the tarmac, his light blue neck pillow put in place while they wait in line for boarding. If David didn’t find Patrick incredibly endearing already, he’d let at least several people stand between them. 

It’s hot when they land. Check-in takes ages, but David’s radiating excitement. He’s so happy to be here and it feels like nothing can dull the joy that’s filled his chest these last few months. He’s happy with Patrick: their success as partners and divers and boyfriends and it feels like at any moment it’s all going to erupt out of him.

\----------

“Um, were we just given a handful of condoms?” Patrick says as soon as the elevator doors slide close.

“Yeah, it’s standard procedure at Olympic Villages. Have you not heard about the hook ups that happen here?” He responds, shimmying his shoulders and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Um, no? Rumors… but it seems pretty tight lipped.”

“Then you don’t know enough loose lipped people.”

The elevator jerks to a stop and the doors slide open to reveal a long hallway, with identical apartment doors lining either side.

“Well, I know you… that’s been enough so far,” Patrick shoots back, moving to stand in the juncture of the doors so David can fumble out with his convoy of bags.

“God, you make that look so effortless David. All our extra workouts have been paying off." 

Despite his teasing, Patrick takes a bag off David's shoulder as he passes.

“Oh my god, why are you like this?” David says with a grunt as he stumbles briefly under the weight of his luggage, adjusting the now unbalanced placement of bags while still pulling his hard shell suitcase behind him. 

David tosses Patrick a small grin over his shoulder, reassuring him that as much as he enjoys complaining about Patrick’s teasing, he secretly loves it even more. David moves ahead of him down the hallway towards their assigned room. “You know, there’s more condoms where those came from. They hand out a minimum of 110,000 condoms.”

“What are they for, the 2.7 million bananas they go through?”

“We’ve got to talk about the fact you knew  _ that  _ statistic and  _ not  _ the one about how much sex happens here.”

“I'm  _ very _ concerned about my potassium intake David. How the hell do you know all this anyway? These are your first games too.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, his shoulders shimming as best they can under the weight still perched across his shoulders and his eyebrows lifting dramatically.

Patrick’s laugh fills the hallway and lights David’s cheeks aflame. “Yeah, that’s why I asked,” he says, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

David just laughs softly and shoulders his way into their room for the next three weeks. 

Patrick sets his bags down on the far side of the room and pours his handful of condoms into the nightstand drawer by one of the twin beds. 

"We won't be using those."

"Why?"

"Because they're gross."

Patrick quirks an eyebrow at David, but says nothing. He simply closes the drawer of the nightstand slowly and smirks.

It isn’t the nicest place he’s ever stayed but he can make do, especially being able to share the space with Patrick. 

There’d been some discussion on whether or not they should room together but they ultimately settled on the fact that if they were going to disturb someone’s sleep, it was better to minimize the people affected by it. 

“So… twin beds.”

“Yeah, they hand out thousands of condoms but they don’t want to make it too easy. Fortunately for you, I came prepared. Will you move the beds together?”

“I mean, I could use a hand probably?"

"Oh, I'll give you a hand," David says and then he's on him, throwing them both on to one of the beds, laughter spilling out and filling the space between them.

\----------

The sound of the stadium is unlike anything David's ever heard. His eardrums ring with the echo of cheering voices, stomping feet, and the anthems of each country as the teams make their way out. He's wearing the horrifically colored matching outfits with the rest of Team Canada, a giant maple leaf emblazoned on the back, and he's loving every moment of it.

The lights are so bright he can barely tell that the stadium is packed, but he knows it is. All of the world's top athletes are here, gathered to compete for the ultimate dream. It's intoxicating.

He smiles over at Patrick, the other man's eyes already glistening back at him. 

He's here. He's at the fucking Olympics with Patrick. 

He takes a gulp of air and it's still not enough to quell the excitement and anxious energy sizzling beneath his skin. 

The only thing that helps take the edge off is Patrick's warm palm sliding down his forearm and taking hold of his hand.

His anchor in the storm. 

They make their way across the stadium floor with the rest of their team. The excitement, the intensity, magnifies tenfold as he grins ear to ear, knowing at any given moment a camera could find them… find him holding his partner's hand, his boyfriend's hand. 

He's made it in every way. He's worked every day since the age of eight to make it here and he's here now with the love of his goddamn life and he can't contain his grin anymore. 

He looks over at Patrick again, the other man's eyes already on him. Maybe they never left.

"We did it," Patrick mouths and David just cries. He's crying. On television. His mother will be devastated but he doesn't care. This moment, here with Patrick, is everything. 

He scans the crowd in front of them and spies the back of Sebastian's well groomed head in front of them, his arm thrown around, if he had to guess, a gymnast. 

They both qualified for the men's 10 meter and the 3 meter synchro so he's sure Jake's not far away either. 

It doesn't take away his joy though, the thought of competing against Sebastian… the thought he could've had all this already if he hadn't gotten injured.

He knows now, he's all the better for it. He wouldn't trade this Olympics experience for anything. Everything that's happened, it's all led him here, to Patrick.

He's thankful in a way he never expected to be, for his injury and Sebastian's shitty behavior. 

Frankly, blowing his knee was the best thing that ever happened to him. He’d gotten out of Sebastian’s orbit and found himself, he’d grown closer with his parents and Alexis. He found the perfect coach in Jocelyn and he’d met Patrick. 

There’s no way he would have made it this far without Patrick.

He’s gained so much more than a successful career, he’s gained a lover, a partner.

He brings their laced hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss across Patrick's knuckles, who glows in response.

The opening ceremony is over in the blink of an eye, standing in the center of the stadium with a sea of athletes from over two hundred countries, speeches given, the torch lit and burning brightly. 

They're back in their small apartment and David's ignoring texts from his mother about public displays of affection and advice on which under eye serum to use to hide the fact he's cried on one of the most watched sporting events. 

Instead he's wrapped around Patrick, his firm muscles moving and flexing under David’s palms. The thick chords of his neck are exposed, the sounds spilling from his mouth making David want to cry for an entirely different reason.

He does cry out eventually, though it definitely has something to do with Patrick's mouth around him. 

\----------

The gymnasium is massive and by far has the most attendees of any event so far. They’re crammed into the tiny seats with a few other Team Canada athletes, pressed firmly against each other as they watch the women take to the mats. 

David can feel himself thrumming with excitement. He’s a proud Canadian but there’s nothing like the American team. Simone Biles, Madison Kocian, Laurie Hernandez… be still his heart. 

“Simone Biles, Patrick! Can you believe it?” he whispers reverently, nearly vibrating right out of his skin as he watches her approach the beam.

“I see her, David. I just think, you know, since we’re sitting amongst other Canadians maybe you should…”

“No, I know Patrick but look,” he starts and leans over so only Patrick can hear him.“No one stands a chance against Simone Biles… everyone knows it.”

Patrick just grins and shakes his head. Patrick knows he’s right because his left hand settles on David’s thigh and squeezes tightly.

David doesn’t leave to get snacks once the events have started, he can’t look away. He’s waited for what feels like forever to see gymnastics at the Olympics.

She’s flawless, because she’s Simone  _ Fucking  _ Biles and David is on his feet cheering for way too long and Patrick has his head thrown back in a laugh, but he’s cheering too.

David sees pictures of this exact moment later that evening when he’s scrolling through Instagram.

The more places they go, the more pictures that get snapped, the more autographs they sign. David thinks it’s charming and sweet… and a lot. 

He's not really thought about it. Not when they're surrounded by the world's best athletes but he supposes their little poolside kiss did go a bit viral, and he's returning after what was supposed to be a retirement. They've been causing waves and here, surrounded by fans and sports enthusiasts, they're seeing the evidence. 

Patrick eventually suggests they go watch some of the track and field events. David agrees, so long as snacks are provided and sunscreen is heavily applied, though that's mostly for Patrick's sake.

Patrick's also quick to point out he'd already gone to gymnastics, even though David knows he enjoyed it just as much. 

“Has it started yet?” David asks, tipping his sunglasses down so he can peer over the top of them and glare at Patrick. 

David, though a top athlete, isn’t exactly a fan of most sports. He doesn’t get a thrill out of watching them, he doesn’t follow many of them outside of a  _ very  _ select few... and none of them take place outdoors. His whole life is sports, he prefers his downtime to be focused on Masterpiece television and fashion. 

"No David, you'll hear a—" he starts but is cut off by a cacophonous bang that nearly causes him to spill his drink. 

David pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose and squints down at the track, the runners already taking their first turn. 

"Okay? And how long do they run for?"

"Well this is the 10,000 meter event so it normally goes over twenty minutes? Upon further reflection I realize maybe I should have gotten us here for a quicker event."

"Mmmm." David says, giving Patrick a significant side eye.

He sits and enjoys his snacks happily under the hot sun for a few minutes. He also lets himself take Patrick in, wearing what appears to be his  _ sports viewing attire. _

He's got his blue flatback cap perched clumsily on his head, his ears already pink from the sun, a Team Canada Diving t-shirt and gym shorts, looking every bit the athlete he is.

David's wearing shorts today too and he's not sure Patrick's ever seen him in a pair of shorts. Actually he's positive because when he'd unpacked his luggage, Patrick had made a comment about how he  _ never  _ sees David's legs if they're not in a pool or in their bed.

But they're very stylish black shorts with a cuff leaving them cutting about mid-thigh. He's also sporting a very nice floral short sleeve button down. 

It's not his normal look, both his arms and legs exposed, but even he isn't stupid enough to bring a leather sweater to the Summer Olympics.

Once his eyes finish drinking in his very attractive and sporty boyfriend, he feels Patrick's hand settle on the inside of his thigh.

Patrick's hand feels innocent enough, it's warm and soft against his skin and it's not resting particularly high on his thigh. Then, every few seconds he feels Patrick's blunt nails scratch against the sparse hair there, which does nothing to lessen the flush he feels from the sun.

"If I'm honest…" Patrick starts, leaving over to whisper hotly against David's ear.

"Mhmm?" David casually responds even as he feels goosebumps prickle across his skin.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you in shorts…"

_ Ah, there it is. _

David smirks but keeps his eyes on the runners, "Oh, I know Patrick."

"I however, wasn't expecting you to also free your forearms and David, this may have been a mistake," Patrick admits before leaning out of David's space, his free hand pushing the brim of his hat down a bit further as if that will be enough to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.

"A mistake you'll have to live with for at least," he starts before glancing down at his watch, "16 more minute give or take."

Patrick groans from beside him but shifts attention back to the runners, his hand not straying from David's thigh.

David takes pity on him, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

He also lets Patrick lead him out of the stands moments after the first place runner crosses the finish line, and he only makes two jokes about Patrick crossing his own finish line as he's marched back to their apartment.

\----------

David watches as Patrick goes up against 31 divers, then 17, and now 11. It's been a stressful few days as he's watched Patrick's confidence dance from one extreme to the other. 

Patrick's never been antsy like this about a meet before but even Patrick's got to feel the reality of the Olympics.

Ted didn’t make it past the prelims so all of them are sitting together in the stands. He's eternally grateful he's not having to relive the nearly two hours of Alexis hitting him in the face with a sign she'd made for Ted like he had to during the preliminary round.

Ted's great, but Patrick's the better diver and judging by how loud Ted's whoops are for his boyfriend, he knows the other man agrees. 

He can see Patrick’s parents ahead of them but he’s not met them formally. He’s not had the chance. 

He's carefully avoided them over the last few days. He doesn't want to meet them without Patrick. He knows they know about him, that Patrick talks about him… but he wants them to like him. 

Historically, he’s not a person parents like. 

Patrick’s never had a better meet. He rips every entry with a clean and crisp pop as his hands hit the water. He enters perfectly vertically dive after dive. It’s clear he’s going to win, so long as he nails his last dive… Patrick’s going to be an Olympic gold medalist.

David’s jumping up and down before he knows it, in Alexis’s arms, and then Stevie’s wrapped tightly around him as they all promptly lose their shit. 

David’s pretty sure he’s crying because Alexis tuts at him and wipes his cheeks before they head down to congratulate Patrick. 

When they reach him he’s grinning so big he’s glowing. He politely moves past his parents once they’ve hugged and barrels straight into David. 

David’s hugging Patrick, who just won an Olympic gold medal and he’s so proud. He wraps him up tightly in his arms and sways softly from side to side, pouring his praise over Patrick, pressing kisses to the side of his head not thinking about press or parents or friends until it’s too late. Until he steps back, his blush spreading violently down his neck. 

He sees Patrick’s mom wiping away tears and his dad nods at David and offers him a small smile. 

After the medal ceremony, Patrick’s parents insist they both get some rest but make them promise a dinner as soon as they can spare an evening. Marcy pulls David into a very brief hug like they haven’t just met, like she’s not sure it’s allowed, and Clint shakes his hand firmly with a genuine smile on his face. 

When they’re finally alone, David takes his time making sure he presses his pride into every inch of Patrick’s skin he can get his lips on. He slings his leg over Patrick's, their legs slotting together perfectly as David holds himself over Patrick, his lips running along his jaw. 

"I’m so proud of you," he whispers, his lips trailing up to the shell of Patrick’s ear.

Patrick lifts his chin in an attempt to get his ear lobe closer to David’s already waiting mouth, a frustrated groan falling from his lips as his hands desperately ruck up David’s Team Canada t-shirt. 

"Thank you David," Patrick stumbles out, his pale eyelashes fluttering against his quickly flushing skin. 

"You’re a gold medalist Patrick," David whispers, finally taking Patricks ear lobe between his teeth, a hand moving to run along the grooves of the gold disk lying between them.

"Mhmmm. You’ll be one soon too, babe,” Patrick adds quickly, his hands moving over the expanse of David’s back.

David presses a kiss to Patrick's lips before moving further down his body. He helps Patrick shuck his t-shirt and spends far too much time worshiping Patricks firm upper body, the medal now pressed against his bare skin, Patrick squirming. 

"You wanna hurry it along David?" he groans, his back arching and head pushing back into the pillow.

David grins up at Patrick, his chin resting on Patrick's lower stomach, the tips of his fingers already curled under the top of Patrick's slick warm up pants. 

"Oh yeah? What is it you want me to do?" he asks, his fingers running along the skin just inside his waistband. 

"Well I don't know David, what were you planning to do after removing my pants?" 

Patrick props his elbows up underneath him so he can see David clearly. It does nothing but create a beautiful picture for David, one he never wants to forget. Patrick’s longer than usual curls are greatly disheveled, his cheeks are still flushed a brilliant shade of crimson, and his chest, sadly absent of any substantial love bites but sporting that damn medal, is heaving as it tries to keep up with his rapid pulse.

"A puppet show," he finally answers and he can tell by the few moments of confusion on Patrick’s face that he’d taken too long to answer, Patrick’s question already forgotten.

David feels his chest tighten fondly, so very much in love with Patrick Brewer that it continues to consume every inch of him, every spare brain cell he has. 

"Okay, David."

He blinks as his eyes refocus on Patrick’s face, shocked when he sees a fond smile instead of blown pupils, not that he doesn’t still have those. 

"Okay maybe I was gonna–"

"Do it,  _ please _ ," Patrick pleads softly, his hips lifting slightly from the mattress, his left hand sinking into David’s hair.

"Okay, Patrick."

\----------

David looks to his left as he approaches the end of the 10 meter and nearly walks right of the end. Blinking, he shakes his head in disbelief. He can see the lithe and ethereal shape of his sister in the stands, a very garish pink sign waving over her head that probably says "yay, David, yay!" or something equally as embarrassing in sparkly gold letters, but he's not certain. 

What made him nearly ruin his chances are the two figures next to her. He can just barely make out the crisp steel blue of his father's suit. His mother on the other hand looks as outrageous as ever, something white and most definitely feathered sitting atop her head. 

“My god,” he whispers as he turns around and perches precariously on the end of the board, a back three and a half somersault needing to take place before he spends any more time analyzing why the hell his parents are here. 

They hadn’t mentioned they were coming. In fact, his last Tuesday night dinner at his parent’s house had been down right frosty. He knew that even though he was already in possession of his plane ticket to the Olympics, his parents were still scared for him. 

He breathes out and takes off, the 35 mile an hour drop to the surface of the water exhilarating. His first competitive dive at his first Olympics games, and his family is here to see it. 

The tension he’s been carrying, the nerves all dissipate in an instant. Now that his opening dive is done… it feels like he’s ripped a bandaid off.

Throughout the first four rounds, his scores stay high and consistent… and he’s now pretty sure that his mother is wearing some type of swan headdress. He’s not certain which he thinks is more impressive. He only catches glimpses of her and the rest of his family in the stands between his dives. He does catch Stevie, Twyla, and  _ oh god _ , Patrick when they move to sit with them before his second to last round. He decidedly looks away when he sees Patrick shaking his father’s hand. 

In the midst of the other 31 divers in this round, he’s not caught sight of Sebastian other than the few times he watches him on one of the large television screens. His ex is near the middle of the leaderboard and if he doesn’t keep up, he’ll get left behind. 

David finishes fifth behind a Cuban diver with Russia coming in first. They’d both performed extraordinarily well, David will just have to do better in the next round.

In the end, Sebastian does get left behind, just two spots outside of qualifying as the number of divers drops from 32 to 18. 

\----------

They plan a family dinner the evening following David’s semi-final round in which he placed fourth, closing the gap between him and the divers on the podium. His final round isn’t until the following afternoon so they figure the quicker they get it over with, the quicker they can plan to have the Rose’s and the Brewer’s meet under the correct circumstances, and not by chance, though David is definitely the only one worried about that.

Marcy Brewer embraces David the second they step inside the restaurant. Thrilled to be spending time with the man Patrick's gushed about over the phone since their televised kiss. The person that makes her son the happiest she's ever seen him.

He instantly feels some of his nerves subside. He didn’t realize he’d been worried about more than Patrick’s family liking his family… he was worried about them still liking him and  _ still  _ liking him after they meet his parents.

The juxtaposition between the Roses and the Brewers is downright comical. His mother is in an unusually toned down outfit, that David is certain has to do with the twenty minute conversation he had with her earlier about how normal Patrick’s parents are, and then another ten minutes explaining to her what normal meant. 

Patrick’s family seems to be about 50 shades of blue wrapped up in charm and manners and kindness. David’s exceedingly worried about his family completely eating them alive. 

The only thing that calms him is Patrick’s steadying hand in his, or on his thigh under the table, or resting between his shoulder blades.

Johnny and Moira sit across from each other at the heads of the table while Clint and Marcy sit next to each other, Marcy closest to Moira and Clint mirroring. At least Clint and Johnny would have something to talk about… right?

David and Patrick sit stiffly across the table from Clint and Marcy, taking in the comical pairing. 

David wishes he’d called ahead and had namecards put on the table, but so far, it seems like things are going well. 

He also wishes he’d insisted that Alexis and Ted come along because Alexis is always good at drawing attention.

For the first several minutes it's the clinking of glasses and the folding of cloth napkins and the awkward clearing of throats that fill the silence that settles over the table.

David glances over at Patrick pleadingly, knowing he’ll be able to perform some type of magic to make everyone comfortable but just as he’s opening his mouth to start the conversation it’s Marcy that breaks the ice first.

“I’ll admit I’ve not spent much time with your boy, well any time really… But it’s been such a pleasure getting to know David from all of Patrick’s stories. He speaks so highly of him.”

“Well, what a unique perspective. I don’t think I’ve heard anyone speak of David so kindly!” Moira says, laying her cloth napkin gently across her lap before folding her bejeweled hands neatly on top of the table.

“Okay…” David starts.

“He was a charming child. Always wanting to spend his free time by my side. So sweet. He was constantly clomping around the house in whatever heels I’d worn to work that day, or putting on my makeup after I’d applied it myself. But then he got interested in jumping off dangerously  brobdingnagian objects and all that quality time went right out the window! All these years later I still don’t quite see the appeal.” Moria says in such an offhand way it was as if she’d not given the Brewers a look into their personal lives. 

David’s hand finds Patrick’s where it sits already on his thigh palm up, waiting. 

“Awe, that is… very sweet!” Marcy says glancing down at Clint, probably for some support only to find him deep in conversation with Johnny about the correct type of bourbon to have with their meals.

“Patrick also spent a lot of time with me before diving became his main focus. We played a lot of music together when he was little, which thankfully he seems to still make time for in the off season. He used to run around to all the neighbors houses with his little accordion. He was such a sweet boy, still is.” She says glancing over at Patrick to toss him a sweet wink.

David almost misses it because he’s holding back a laugh at the look on his mother’s face at the mere mention of Patrick and accordion being strung together in the same sentence.

“Well, I suppose that does make sense. David is still very intune to the fashion world as I’m sure you can tell. He does get that from me,” Moria says her shoulders back and chin raised with whatever pride she can scrounge up to have for him.

_ Dear God _ , David’s going to need to warn Patrick about the Met Gala viewing parties before long.

After that, the dinner ends up moving along much smoother, probably smoother than it would have if he’d indeed invited Alexis along.

As different as the Brewers are they seem to compliment the Roses in a way that's not unlike the way Patrick compliments David. 

Where the Rose’s edges are sharp, the Brewers are smooth. Where their words are blunt, the Brewer’s are subtle and kind. 

He’s not sure they’ll ever have large joint family holidays or family vacations, and the dinner ends in a silence that’s not wholly unlike the one it started with, but it goes so much better than David ever dared to hope for.

\----------

The following afternoon is a whirlwind of getting ready. He meets with Jocelyn one last time to make sure he’s in the right headspace. 

He's fine though… mostly. He's scored high thus far. Coming in 5th in the prelims and then 4th semis. The competition is just so fierce. 

Mexico and Cuba really make him work for a spot on the podium as Russia and Germany have felt untouchable in first and second place.

He finds he's as calm up on the platform as he is back home and it helps.

He dives better than he did in the previous rounds and it's enough. He's the last diver in the line up so as soon as his scores are given, he knows he’s in third. He's won the bronze medal.

His eyes scan the crowd for Jocelyn, for Patrick but he was the last to dive and he's being rushed off to change in order to make it to the medal ceremony. 

He ushered past his family and Patrick, Jocelyn hurrying behind him to keep him from stopping because he wants to stop, just for a moment…To take in the pride he can see on his father's face. The slightly glistening eyes of his mother. The smug and ecstatic grin on Patrick's face. Alexis's limp yet somehow clapping hands. Stevie acting like she's not actively crying.

But he's got to hurry. 

He does get to bask in the glow of his family and friends once the medal ceremony is over. 

Stevie fights to the front of the line, no one seemingly put out but accepting the fact she gets the first hug.

She's not crying anymore, any trace of emotion long gone as she pulls out of the hug and punches him in the shoulder for good measure.

His father grabs him next, the hug stiff and awkward but well intentioned. 

His mom simply cups his cheek fondly and kisses his other.

They don't tell him they're proud, that they understand now… Why he chose this. 

But he can see it, feel it. 

He lets Alexis fix his hair, tutting about what conditioner he'll need to use as if he's not been taking excellent care of his chlorine fried hair for nearly two decades.

Then he's in Patrick's arms, just a quick hug but right enough to squeeze the air from his lungs. 

It's followed up by a much longer one once they're behind closed doors, David's bronze medal hanging between their bodies this time.

Patrick presses sweet kisses along his chest, arms and then legs. Words of praise and affirmation filling the time between the pressing of lips and then hips as they move together under the haze of victory.

\----------

David’s been a wreck all day, though it’s not any different than the other days he’d woken up knowing he was going to watch his best friend compete at the Olympics.

Neither Stevie or Twyla medaled in their solo events but they’d both performed so well, the women’s category is always highly competitive. 

He’s thankful though, that while he’s equally as nervous when he’s watching Patrick, he gets to hold onto Patrick’s hand while he watches Stevie and Twyla approach the end of the 10 meter platform. 

“David, I can’t feel my hand.” Patrick whispers, teasing.

“Shh!” He says, but loosens his grip for just a second until he watches his friends take off, the drop to the surface of the water over in an instant, his hand back to squeezing Patrick’s but in relief this time. 

“That was good!”

“It was brilliant!” David says back, letting go of Patrick’s hand long enough to clap.

Women’s 10 meter is a popular event, the stands around them are full of teammates and families and fans but David stays in his and Patrick’s bubble even though he knows Ted and Alexis are nearby. 

It’s nice, being here, experiencing this with Patrick’s warm palm pressed against his own.

They’ll be here tomorrow, starting the journey toward their own synchro medal. 

David’s fingers unlace from Patrick's and dance up his arm until they can rub against Patrick’s shoulder blades, the firmness grounding David, calming his anxiety for what comes next.

There's a level of comfort they have now that they've said their "I love yous". David feels at ease at the nearness of Patrick, an ease David feels as he takes comfort in the nearness of Patrick, as he gives Patrick the same steadying presence.

They've never struggled being physical with each other but, it's different now. It's not calculated or thought about… it's just David's hand moving to Patrick's shoulder if he's within a reachable radius. 

Patrick turns to look at David as soon as he feels David’s fingers fluttering against his shoulder, smiling softly, knowingly at him. His newly freed hand takes its place just on the inside of David’s thigh, squeezing briefly.

David closes the gap between their bodies, his fingers skittering to the far shoulder as he presses his upper body against Patrick’s, shoulder to shoulder. He feels Patrick's body move with fond laughter, their combined joy and relief and comfort seeming to pass between every inch of their bodies that’s pressed together.

Their focus shifts to the boards again as Stevie and Twyla prepare for their second to last dive. They’re doing well, holding steady near the top. The team from Mexico is far enough ahead that without any major issues they’ll take first easily.

The second and third place will be close between Stevie and Twyla and the team from Germany, China and Australia right on their heels. They’re all still in medal contention and David can imagine the stress of that scoreboard leering over the pool.

David watches as the German team up before his girls balk on the entry, one just slightly over-rotated while the other is wildly under. 

He lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, Patrick presses a kiss into the crown of his shoulder. 

“They’ve got this David,” he whispers, his chin taking the place of his lips, perching lightly on his shoulder.

“I know, this next dive is their best. Back two and a half with one and a half twists. If they nail it, it could put them solidly in line for the silver,” he mumbles, his fingers gripping Patrick’s shoulder now, perching on the edge of his seat as much as he can with the way they’re wrapped around each other.

He watches as they toss their shammys over the side of the board, back up so their heels are just over the edge. He takes a deep breath and holds it as they count down, as they take off. 

He’s on his feet as soon as he sees the entry, untangling himself from around Patrick’s who is on his feet too, his arms pumping in the air as he hollers next to David. The entry was spotless, nearly no splash, perfectly vertical, same distance from the board. Perfection. 

Patrick takes David’s hand and leads out of the stands once the crowd settles and the scores are revealed putting Stevie and Twyla in second place. David knows he’s taking them down to the deck so they can be nearby once the scores from the last round are final.

The last dive passes in a blur, their vantage point from the deck even better as they wait with Stevie and Twyla’s coach along with a few other Team Canada divers. 

As soon as Stevie is out of the pool, final dive completed and their place in second solidified, David is pushing through the crowd that’s gathering, moving quickly so he can be one of the first to congratulate her. 

He can see, just barely through the crowd, Stevie and Twyla wrapped around each other as the crowd goes wild as their scores are given.

Then Stevie's breaking away, her eyes scanning the crowd until they find his.

They rush into each other, David wrapping her up in the biggest hug, her feet lifting from the ground and his clothes soaked through in an instant.

He sets her down, his eyes squinting as he tries his damndest to keep from crying. “So, you’re like an Olympic Silver Medalist now?” He yells over the cheers still going up around them. 

“You’re damn right I am!” She yells back and she’s incandescent. 

Next he’s pulling Twyla into a hug and congratulating her as Patrick gets his turn with Stevie.

God he’s so happy for them. Stevie’s worked harder than anyone and it’s paid off. He’s so proud, he needs to tell her how damn proud he is. 

They’re rushed off moments later before he can so they can get ready for the medal ceremony. He find’s Patrick, his eyes fond and soft as he pulls David into a hug.

He watches as the bronze medalists receive their medals and flowers and then it's Stevie and Twyla's turn to step up on the podium, the roar of the cheers from the crowd that’s gathered is deafening, much like it was when it was Patrick up there getting his gold medal. 

Stevie and Twyla smile for photos and then cheer as team Mexico takes their place on the top of the podium.

More pictures. 

More cheers.

More crying from David. 

\----------

David knows he should be sleeping, he knows he's going to greatly regret his 5 AM wake up call if he doesn't close his eyes soon but he  _ can't.  _

He can feel his heart in his throat.

He's more nervous than he's ever been, more nervous than he was in his final round of his 10 meter event mere days ago. 

Patrick needs him to perform well tomorrow.  _ He  _ needs to perform well tomorrow… or is it today yet?

He looks over at the red numbers illuminating the small bedside table. Not quite midnight then. 

They'd gone to bed a few hours ago, Patrick dropping off as soon as his head hit his pillow, his soft snores filling the space between them.

He'd looked so relaxed, so… unworried about what awaits them tomorrow that it had triggered something in David. Just a nibble of anxiety that David then allowed to swallow him whole. 

Patrick's trust in David and his abilities and skill is enough that he's sleeping soundly  _ knowing _ they're going to kill tomorrow. 

And deep down, David knows this. He  _ feels  _ it. He's been fine, this whole time.

But he doesn't want to let Patrick down. 

He can't let Patrick down.

He heaves a sigh and turns over, his eyes settling back on Patrick. His too loud eyes closed, his mouth just open enough to let the occasional snore escape. 

God he loves him so much. He wants to do this for  _ him.  _ Give him this victory as much if not more than he wants it for himself. 

"You're thinking too hard David."

David startles at the gravely voice that comes out of a man he'd thought was asleep. 

"I'm thinking exactly the right amount."

"No, cause if you were you'd be sleeping. You're not sleeping," he mumbles, his eyes opening. "You're going to look like shit on television tomorrow David."

David feels his shoulders relax as he chuckles softly, Patrick's face in a very sleepy version of the one he makes when he's teasing him. 

It's adorable.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because one of us should be well rested," he says, his fingers inching closer to the hand Patrick's resting between them.

Instead of taking his hand, Patrick's moves to David's body, shifting them easily so David's curled against his chest, Patrick's sleep-warm body enveloping his.

"How about we're both well rested because you wake me up, explain why you're freaking out and then finally get some sleep?" Patrick says into his hair, seemingly determined to nuzzle into every part of David's body he physically can.

David's quiet for a few minutes, his fingers tracing patterns across the expanse of Patrick's chest as he tries to think of a way to perfectly articulate his thoughts. 

He eventually settles on, "I just…Don't want to let you down."

"Oh David, you're not going to let me down. You couldn't if you tried."

"But what if–" 

"No, none of that… that's how you got into this mess. I love you David. I'm always going to love you. Medal or no medal. Whether we make it to semis or finals, whether we win or lose… none of it matters as long as I get to keep you when this is all over."

"But I want to win, I want us to win," he says softly, tipping his head up to look at Patrick. 

He just grins sleepily and bends his head down to press a kiss to David's forehead, then the tip of his nose, and then finally to his lips.

"We’ve already won David." The words are a whisper against David's lips before Patrick's lips caress against his briefly before moving to ghost over David's eyelids, forcing them closed. 

“That was a little too sappy,” David mumbles and feels his body relax fully, limp and boneless against the warmth of Patrick. He can feel himself allowing sleep to fall over him, his thoughts fuzzy and mostly consisting of how nice and warm Patrick's breath feels against his skin, how his hands feel hot against him even through his pajama shirt. How utterly safe and ready he feels for tomorrow. 

\----------

David wakes up incredibly well rested, slightly anxious, and a whole lot excited.

They come in second behind the team from China in the preliminary round. 

They close the gap even more in the semi-final round. A tenth of a point difference between them. 

Now, they stand shoulder to shoulder in a line with the seven other teams of divers. 

This is the last time he’ll line up in his warm-up, on camera, about to compete for the final time at this olympic games and he’s already sad. It’s been a dream, being here to compete and being here with Patrick.

He glances to his right and sees Patrick staring up into the stands. His smile is breathtaking. 

David follows the line of Patrick’s sight and sees his parents sitting there with Marcy and Clint. Stevie, Twyla, Alexis and Ted all there too. David grasps Patricks hand in his, overwhelmed by the community and family they’ve built together. 

It's unreal, it’s something he didn’t think he’d ever have and for a long time wasn’t something he even thought he deserved but he’s here. He’s at the Olympics with Patrick, he’s already in possession of one medal and he’s well on his way to getting another. 

It feels absurd, that his life has boiled down to this moment. That he’s standing here, at the 2020 Summer Olympics next to the love of his life about to compete for the gold.

Hopefully about to win the gold.

He wants it so bad he can nearly taste it. 

They dive near the middle of the pack so they take a few moments to exist in their bubble, stretching and passing shy smiles back and forth. 

Their first rounds go off without a hitch. Their synchro and execution scores high, leaving them nearly dead even with the team from China, the team from Great Britain just behind them.

They surpass China with their reverse two and a half somersault with two and a half twists…The dive that nearly ended David's career, the dive they get 10s on today. 

David doesn't cry when Patrick pulls him in for a hug once they're off the deck, but he wants to.

He's not going to cry until they've won, until their last round is complete. It feels like a jinx, to assume they've got it in the bag now… it's too close. 

The look on Patrick's face tells him he's hesitant but confident too. He stands with his hands on his hips and watches the scoreboard.

David can't. He shoves his earbuds in his ears and stretches, runs through his hurdles, does anything he can do to keep from getting in his head. 

They catch China's final dive on their way back, one of the divers is severely over-rotated. 

It's done now, they've all but won. There's no way they'll lose now.

David's stomach flips violently and he reaches forward quickly to grasp Patrick's hand in his as they continue to make their way to the boards. 

The people they pass are already slapping their shoulders, congratulating them. 

He can see his family waiting off to the side now, all of them on the deck. Waiting for them to win, to win gold. 

They're going to win the gold medal.

It's unheard of, Canada receiving this many medals in diving. It's wild, it feels like a fever dream. 

Patrick's grins at him over his shoulder, dropping his hand to knot up his shammy. 

They take to the boards, lining up of their last dive at these Olympic Games. 

Patrick counts them down, an inward three and a half tuck all that's left between them and the podium now.

It's damn near perfect, David can tell. The water feels all consuming once he enters it, itching to get out to get his arms around Patrick, his family. 

They swore up and down they wouldn't have a replay of Worlds, a kiss on the deck of the pool too caught up in the moment to stop it.

They end up doing it anyway, Patrick's body colliding with his as soon as their feet are on solid ground. 

He's wet and solid against him, their arms squeezing each other tightly, Patrick's lips pressing a quick kiss to his neck, their lips then meeting out of habit. 

They're swallowed up by a crowd of their favorite people as soon as they near the coaches seating area. 

He feels Stevie first, a blur barreling into him so fast it takes what little breath he has left. Then Jocelyn who is sobbing and clapping and jumping up and down. Then he's passed off to Alexis, then Ted smacks his back. Eventually he's spit out right in front of his parents. 

He knows they had a change of heart after his solo event, he knows they're here to support him… But it doesn't make the awkward hugs any less meaningful. 

Just seconds later they're being ushered away from the pool to put their warmups back on for the medal ceremony. 

It's a blur of excitement and Patrick's hand doesn't leave his from the moment they're dressed. 

He watches as Great Britain takes their place on the podium, then China, then it's their turn. 

He's grinning so large his cheeks are numb.

They won, though he thinks Patrick was right, they won a long time ago.

He won a long time ago.

He won the day he decided to give all of this another shot.

He won the day he first met with Jocelyn.

And he won the day he met a guy with a teasing smile and fond eyes. 

They finally make it to the safety of the locker room, interviews given, pictures taken. It takes so long that David’s hair is already mostly dry. He’s going to need to deep condition it as soon as possible.

But he doesn’t fret over it too long, he can’t when the solid medal hanging around his neck keeps bumping against his chest.

He needs to change, to gather his things but he stands in front of his locker, the cool metal resting in the palm of his hand and stares down at it. 

Patrick’s arms wind around his waist, his chin resting on David’s shoulder. 

David chuckles when he feels Patrick’s hands dip under his warm up, his palms grazing across his stomach. 

“Hands to yourself Brewer, we wouldn’t want to scandalize anyone,” he whispers despite the fact he’s pretty certain they’re alone, the hour late and most of the other athletes having filtered out by now. 

“We did it,” he whispers, leaning his head against Patrick’s who presses a kiss to his temple. 

“We did, how would you like to celebrate?”

“I would like a pizza and an entire bottle of wine… and then maybe a nice long shower.”

“Okay David, I bet we can make that happen.”

“Mmm, and you can join me in that shower… and I may be willing to share my pizza.”

“How thoughtful.”

“Yes well, I’m a very generous person.”

Patrick’s hands grip David’s hips and spin him around, softly backing him into the bay of lockers, his lips grazing the skin just above the ribbon David’s gold medal hangs from. “Do you ever think…” he mumbles into his skin, “about how locker rooms seem to just do it for us? I mean I wouldn’t be surprised,” he says, his lips trailing up the other side of his neck before landing on the patch of sensitive skin just below his ear, “if we’ve made out more in locker rooms than we do at home.”

David makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh before pushing Patrick back gently, just enough to give himself some breathing room. 

“I think locker rooms make you horny… but I really don’t want to get caught with my pants down in a locker room at the Olympics so get your stuff and let's go get that pizza.”

Patrick chuckles and looks far too smug for his own good, but he buys them two pizzas and pulls two bottles of wine out of a bag that’s already waiting for them outside their room that Stevie dropped off.

And they pile into their pushed together twin beds and devour every bit of it and celebrate each other just as thoroughly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long I just had such a hard time writing an ending I was happy with. When I started posting this chapter was mostly done... it looks completely different now. Also, the only experience I have with the Olympics is watching them religiously my entire life so keep that in mind.
> 
> I hope you all like it and thank you so much for going on this journey with me.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is 95% completed. I will be updating at least twice a week, if not more frequently. I'm hoping this adds a bit of light and tenderness to this time of uncertainty surrounding all of us.
> 
> I was a diver growing up, but it's been many many years so please keep that in mind!
> 
> Story and chapter titles from Paramore's "Pool"


End file.
